#like we already have his likeness and name. why was his voice unacceptable

[cerealmonster15]

why did engtwst remove stitch's voice

[bachiras-toaster]

the student council president’s girlfriend : ̗̀➛

RIN ITOSHI x f!reader

content. rivals to lovers (?), suggestive remarks

wc: 4.5k

synopsis. you’re marked by the student council president as a frequent slacker. after being caught skipping school multiple times, rin itoshi threatens to get you expelled. however, you find yourself to have been given a golden opportunity to dodge this punishment if you pretend to be his girlfriend. while you did hate the man, you figured that you could make the experience entertaining if you agreed, making it your one life’s-goal to piss him off.

Your fruitless attempt to leave the school to skip had been thwarted once again by the relentless determination of the Student President, who spared no mercy as he had grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into the room of the Student Council, kicking out the remaining members who still lingered inside.

“Out." Rin's cold voice pierced the casual buzz of conversation in the room between Nagi and Reo, sending a shiver down your spine as you realised how serious he was now.

The two lingering Student Council members didn’t need to be told twice before fleeing, passing the President as he dragged you into the door of the room. Rin's grip on your wrist tightened with a seemingly unshakable irritation due to having his day ruined yet again by your continuous inconvenience. His fingers dug into your skin with a vice-like grip that threatened to cut off your circulation, and there was little mercy to be found in his steely gaze.

“Jeez, you could be a little more gentle!” You proclaimed, snapping your wrist away once they had reached the room and backing yourself against a desk to move away from his towering figure.

"You're lucky I'm treating you with this much mercy to begin with," Rin retorted, his tone filled with scorn as he looked down on you with a disapproving glare. His harsh grip on your wrist had left a bright red mark where his fingers had dug into your skin, a testament to his strength. “Most other student council presidents would have already had you expelled from this school by now given your track record."

“So I miss a few classes… Big deal.” You rolled your eyes, massaging the mark he had left on your flesh.

"The big deal is that you've cut classes at least three times this week alone," Rin replied angrily, his tone sharp and harsh. "A few classes would be like missing one day or two. At this point, you're borderline a truant."

“Oh, I forgot I was speaking with the President of Punctuality.” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you tensed your shoulders. “Can’t you just let me off?”

"I can't 'let you off' knowing that you'll just continue to skip classes if I do," He spat back, maintaining his harsh tone. "You need to face the consequences of your actions for once and learn to start attending your classes regularly. Missing a few days here and there is acceptable since life can get in the way, but you've been cutting class far too often and this sort of behavior is unacceptable."

“I authorise my absences most of the time!” You argued.

"Most of the time?" The man scoffed. "Keyword, most. Which means that there's still some cases where you haven't authorized your absences and ended up just skipping school. Besides, I can guarantee you that the student council didn't authorise your absence today considering that I had a list of students who would be absent and your name was most definitely not on it."

“God, why are all the student council so strict” You huffed under your breath. “I swear you’re more strict than the actual professors!”

"Because it's literally our job to ensure that students are actually being responsible and attending their classes instead of skipping out on them to do whatever it is that you troublemakers do," His response portrayed his tone as still cold. "And if you think we're strict then you have no clue how much more lenient we actually are compared to some previous student council presidents. There are others who would have had you expelled from this school by now, believe me."

“Oh, right, you’re so kind.” You rolled your eyes, not helping but facing away.

"I am giving you more kindness than you deserve at this point. The fact that you even still going to this school instead of being expelled and sent to some reform school is a testament to just how lenient the student council and the teachers are. If it were up to me, I'd have tossed you out of school ages ago, but my hands are tied by the whole 'you can't just expel students' rule."

“Because you can’t. Just because daddy’s money is keeping you in the position you’re at now, doesn’t mean you hold any kind of power.” You turned to him with an equally threatening glare, your words piercing into him with such direct accuracy that made it seem like you had always been hoping for a moment to say those words. “You student council folk are all the same. You just sit on your thrones and act better than everyone else.”

"Oh, really?" He snapped, a cold stare boring into her eyes as the temperature in the room seemed to drop significantly. "You think that I got my position because of my dad’s money? Listen closely because I'm going to say this once and only once. I can assure you that I definitely worked my ass off and earned my position fair and square."

His hands curled into fists to showcase his broiling resentment, but that only forced the next words out of your mouth even quicker when you realised how threatened he was.

“You and your older brother are both nepo babies.” You muttered, almost like you were scared to say it due to the possible repercussions. “It’s no coincidence that both of the Itoshi brothers managed to be Student Council President back to back.”

The insult sat in the atmosphere for a long while, before Rin’s eye finally twitched and he found the courage to respond with a higher level of disgust.

"...What did you say?" He asked, his tone dangerously cold as he looked towards you. "Did you just call me a nepo baby?"

“Yeah. Because you are. Am I missing something here?”

"If you think that I got my position because of my brother or dad then you clearly don't know what you're talking about." The president angrily, his aura even more menacing as he took a step forward. "I don't just sit around doing nothing. I do stuff. Serious stuff. I manage the schools budget, I make sure that everything is running smoothly, I deal with students like you. There's a lot that I have to do. You think that I got all that handed to me thanks to my family?"

“Whatever.” You turned your head away to look towards the ground, not bothering to take anything of what he was saying in. "Are we done here?”

"Not even close," He replied, leaning forward a little more and narrowing his eyes in disdain. “Did you seriously just think that you could go around insulting me like that after you were caught red-handed and that I would just let you off without any punishment?"

“What are you gonna do? Give me a detention?” You snorted, humoured by his attempts at intimidation. “Big deal. I’ll just sleep.”

"More than detention. Since you’ve been caught ditching on more than three occasions now, you’re out of free passes. You’re dancing on the road leading to a suspension.” Rin darkened his stare, his tone hinting at a looming threat. “And once that suspension hits your permanent record, I doubt any future schools or universities would even wanna look in your direction.”

Your face actually seemed to fall a little at the threat, and you leaned back against the surface of the table to hide your slightly trembling hands. Having your whole future ruined just because you skipped a few classes?

"However, I might be willing to spare you that fate... Provided that you do something for me." Rin quickly added, looking away towards the wall so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with you as he put in his request.

You narrowed your eyes.

“The Student Council President taking advantage of an opportunity for his own gain? I didn’t know you were so corrupt.” You spat back teasingly.

"Don’t sink me down to that level... But I do have a proposition for you… It's simple, really. You fulfill this simple request and I’ll revoke all of your strikes.”

“Depends on what.”

"So you're at least somewhat reasonable then.” He turned back to you, lightly itching his face a little as he attempted to find the words to ask— Like he was embarrassed. "…Do you have a boyfriend? Or maybe a girlfriend? Or even a partner of any kind?"

You suddenly felt your eyebrows furrow a little with curiosity as your tensed shoulders dropped the smallest bit.

“…No…” You said shortly. “The hell does that have to do with anything?”

Rin’s cold glare just got even more stone-faced as he continued speaking, hues of red threatening to shine through the skin of his cheeks.

“…I want you to play the role of a girlfriend for me.” He announced to you simply. “It'll only be temporary, just long enough to convince people that we're dating."

“What?” Your jaw was set agape, waiting for him to reveal that it was all some sort of prank. However, his face remained stoic and dead-serious like always. “Why?”

He cleared his throat, going to scratch the back of his neck as his furrowed brows framed the embarrassment on his face even more. He finally cast his eyes towards you, and you could see how humiliatingly genuine his pupils looked towards you.

"For the sake of maintaining my reputation and pleasing my parents. Because he’s certain that me and my brother are going to continue the legacy of our family, he’s trying to set me up with someone surprisingly even worse than you." Rin replied coldly, his tone matter-of-fact. “Since you're always skipping out on class and getting into trouble, rumors about you have been spreading through the school. If you help me and pretend to date me, it’ll make people think that I've managed to reel you in and turned you into a properly behaved student."

“Seriously?” Your expression emphasised your disdain for the suggestion.

"Yes, seriously. My father has been breathing down my neck and insisting that I find someone to date. That's why I need someone the role of my girlfriend." He let out an annoyed huff, folding his arms. “It'll be easy. All you need to do is stick by my side like a regular girlfriend would and convince everyone that we’re dating. I'll do the convincing on my end. I'll make sure that everyone sees us as a couple and is left with no doubt that we're together."

“And why ask me, huh? Why not some other girl?”

"Because you're the perfect candidate. And for a number of reasons," he replied, his tone still serious but also carrying a touch of bitterness that made it almost sound vindictive. "One, you’re not exactly a key figure of the school, so seeing you beside me will likely be the first time students have ever paid attention to you— Which means hopefully our relationship won’t draw as much attention as opposed to if I dated an equally successful girl.” He held one finger down, listening down the reasons. “Two, because of this, dating you won't affect my popularity among students and won't tarnish my 'image'. I'll come out looking like a hero for dating you. People will expect that I'll be able to 'control' and 'tame' you. People will think that my mere presence is enough to get you to behave, and it would then improve your reputation.”

You felt your jaw unhinge a little, shocked— insulted that he would say such a thing.

“For your information, I don’t even bother involving myself in stupid social shit like that. I could care less about reputation.”

"Maybe so, but people still know who you are." He replied. "That alone gives me a leg to stand on with convincing people that I've managed to 'reform' you. Besides, you don’t really have that much of a choice. From where you’re standing, it’d be best if you’d just take the easy way out instead of getting suspended."

Your jaw ticked as your eyes narrowed at him.

Dating him? What a joke. You were practically rivals at this point after he had caught you bending or breaking the rules so many times.

“Suppose I do agree,” You suddenly said, “how long would we need to keep up this whole ‘fake dating’ scheme?”

"A few months. Just until the term ends. We’ll tell everyone that we’ve been dating since the beginning of the year but kept it a secret, and then we can pretend that we had a really sad break up, meaning I can’t date any time soon and my family from pestering me." He explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “After that, you can go off and do whatever the hell you want— Provided that you still follow the school’s rules. Just stick with this for a little while and I'll be able to get my dad off of my back and keep up my reputation as a great Student Council President."

You pondered the possibility for a moment. In exchange for having all of your strikes wiped completely clean and not having to be suspended, it was a short request, wasn’t it? It was backed up by sound logic and you didn’t exactly lose anything— Except a bit of your dignity after having to pretend to date one of the people you despised most in the world. But you were sure you could at least make it a little entertaining for yourself.

“…Okay, fine.” You nodded in agreement.

"Good. I'll do the convincing on my end and I'll make sure that everyone buys into our fake relationship." He sighed, a stoic tone masking his relief. "Just make sure that you keep up the act and play the part of a good girlfriend when you're out with me. I'll handle the rest."

“Will do, Mr President.”

For the sake of maintaining the idea as Rin’s girlfriend, you actually began showing up to school again. He had explained to you that you had to try and drop the truant nature and be a good student. He made it clear that these demands got into your head as he practically drilled the orders into your brain the night before the next day.

Of course, you nodded along to everything he said, knowing dann well you certainly weren’t going to make it easy for him.

As Rin was walking down the halls, his deadpan expression stretched across his face as he glanced between the students that he passed by, you screamed his name, dashing down the corridor in an attempt to draw as much attention as you could to yourself.

“Rin, there you are!” You giggled, plunging forward to clutch his sleeve tightly, watching as his ice-cold face was laced with shock.

"What the—“ He exclaimed, his cold, neutral expression transforming into a surprised one as he was taken off guard by your sudden approach and her grasp on his arm. He had expected this fake relationship to require minimal interactions between them outside of school as he had planned, but it looked like a certain someone had other ideas. “Huh- Y—Yeah. I'm here. What is it?" He let out an accidental stammer, his voice filling with a hint of irritation and confusion as he tried to come up with an explanation for this sudden behaviour in his mind. He saw almost immediately that your intentions were not pure, and that you were planning to take advantage of the opportunity to try to embarrass or inconvenience Rin while they you were faking the relationship.

“Nothing! I was just lookin’ for you, that’s all.” You batted your eyelashes lovingly, holding him tighter as you pressed your cheek against his sleeve.

He wanted to swat you away with every bit of frustration he had, but when he began to notice how other students around you two began to whisper towards each other, he ceased all desires to yell at you right then and there.

“Who’s Rin Itoshi with?”

“Didn’t you hear? That’s his girlfriend! Apparently they’ve been dating for months now already!”

“I heard it from Igaguri, they’re like— Official!”

Rin remained silent, his icy expression now transformed into a slightly annoyed one as the crowd began gesturing in your general direction with stares of awe. Even though he had expected that people would start to gossip about the two of you, to the point where your 'relationship' would almost seem real, he wasn't prepared for just how much attention you were going to attract

"Well, you found me. So now can be on your way, right?" He replied, trying to gently pull away from you as the whispers continued to grew louder and more curious by the minute.

“Don’t say that!” You whined, holding him tighter now. “You’re not busy, are you? You wouldn’t shun your girlfriend, right?”

It was almost sickening to yourself how close you needed to force yourself against him, but you bit your tongue and just played into the bit even more. You quickly leaned up to whisper mischievously in his ear, pulling him down by the tie to ensure that he would hear what you said.

“Play into the role, that’s what you said, isn’t it? Want people to believe we’re dating? Then act like a boyfriend.” You muttered harshly before leaning back down and fluttering your eyelashes innocently at him, as if you had just whispered a harmless secret.

"I... um..." Rin felt himself lag, his expression turning beet red as you leaned up to whisper in his ear and began to use the innocent act to your advantage. He was completely taken off guard by this sudden new act as his mind ran a million miles an hour trying to catch up. Rin’s irritation was slowly turning into confusion and then, almost against his own will, his face broke out into a frown as he realized he had no choice but to play along with her little game.

“Let’s walk to lunch together!” You suggested gleefully, holding your hand out for him to take.

"...Alright.” He eventually replied, feeling like his words were being twisted out of his control as he reluctantly agreed to your suggestion, placing his palm atop yours.

It was clear that just from the action of hand-holding he was awkward and ill-educated, as he didn’t even hold your hand like a couple would. His palm was simply placed into yours.

It was a good thing he had you leading the way, right?

You irritatingly corrected the action, shifting his palm so that the two of you interlocked fingers instead, clutching his hand tightly to lead him down the hall.

As he began to walk alongside you, he could practically feel all of the eyes on you. It was then that he realised just how effective your act really was. After all, he wasn't the one who was playing the role in this fake relationship. You were too. He had made casual attempts to spread the story of you two dating by subtly slipping the fact into conversation, but it wasn’t nearly effective as what you did— Which was full on public displays of affection. Any outsider would believe that you were just desperate to publicly love your boyfriend after the news of your love had been let out.

However, as annoying as you were, Rin was pleased with how quickly people believed that you were his girlfriend.

The contrast between you and Rin was the most surprising though. Having the cold, icy-glared student council president with a chatty and supposedly reformed slacker attached to his arm was sure to stir up conversation.

“No way that’s Rin Itoshi with (Y/n).”

“Wait, who?”

“She’s the one who never shows up to class, remember?”

“That’s (Y/n)? What the hell is the Student Council President doing with her?”

It became even more clear that you were just emphasising the role just to annoy Rin when you sat down to eat because when you did, you continued to lean on his arm and gush at every little thing he did like an obsessed puppy.

“I had no idea you two were dating.” Isagi, one of Rin’s friends say at the table, smiled as he looked between the two of you. “I didn’t even know you two knew each other.”

"...Yeah, that's a surprise to most people." Rin replied with a dismissive shrug, hoping not to dwell on the topic too much, only for you to cut in and say your piece.

“Yep, we kept it secret until now for privacy reasons, but I’m glad I’m finally able to brag about my prize boyfriend!” You beamed, earning you an eye-roll from Rin. After your constant clinging and gushing, you could tell thathe was already tired from the whole shtick. It was only the start of the day, for Christ's sake.

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you’d associate with someone like her… No offence.” Chigiri said blankly, turning to you.

“None taken.” You giggled, continuing to clutch Rin’s arm. “If you’re worried about my bad studentship tendencies to rub off on him, you shouldn’t worry anymore. I’m leaving my troublemaker past behind! Can’t be tarnishing my boyfriend’s reputation, hm?”

Although it was annoying, he had to admit that you were doing a pretty convincing job at playing the role of a reformed 'girlfriend' with a bit of an obsessive streak. It was getting harder to even stay mad at your behaviour as people around you began to get wrapped up in your little 'love story' and take it as real. Rin only grumbled to himself as he continued to endure the constant teasing and taunting from you, hoping that nobody else at the table would question it.

“When did you two even start dating?” Isagi asked abruptly. “Igaguri said you’ve been dating since the beginning of the year.”

“About seven months.” Rin didn’t even hesitate when answering this question, like he had been practising saying it in the mirror. “We went on a few dates for about a month before we actually made it official though. So we’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend for about six months.”

Of course, none of that was true. You had only agreed to play this fake role just yesterday, however it was crucial for the act that he made it come off as though you had been seeing each other for longer than that. Rin had even been repeating these kinds of questions to himself when he was alone, unbeknownst to you, so he could answer any queries seamlessly.

“I see! You two are a cute couple! Never thought I’d see Mr Stuck-Up with a girlfriend.” Isagi commented with a smirk.

“Right? But he’s just the cutest!” You grinned widely. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me! It’s like I’ve changed for the better because of it!”

"Let’s not go too far…" Rin scoffed irritably. “You don’t have to act like I’m the best thing since sliced bread...” He replied with a slight hint of impatience as the friends around him continued discussing why he would begin dating a 'slacker like her'. Although the whispers weren’t explicitly said to you two, you could still hear every one. In spite of this, Rin kept up the act, continuing to pretend to be like a 'doting boyfriend' who's just as obsessed with her as she was with him.

Though, it seemed that everyone took notice of his irritability, so you quickly swooped in to justify it.

“Oh, we know Rin always acts cold, but trust me— He’s got a soft side for me!” You reassured the rest of them at the table, gaining herself a suspicious look from Rin. “When we’re in private, he’s so loving! You’d never believe it!”

His friends seemed to be a little disbelieving. Rin? Loving?

"Really?" Isagi seemed to reply with raised eyebrows, not quite buying into the idea of Rin being genuinely gentle behind closed doors. "It must be something special. He's never been like that to anyone else."

"Oh, honestly!" You interjected again. "I never thought that he had a kind side until I saw it for myself." You then leaned up to Rin again as you whispered mischievously in his ear, "right?" And this time, your tone felt almost taunting as you waited for him to respond.

"…Yes." He replied, trying his best to sound convincing even when he was getting irritated by the whole spiel. “It's kind of amazing, really. I usually feel so closed-off, but with (Y/n)..." His voice went a bit softer and kinder as he spoke of you. "There's a whole different side to me that she's able to bring out. I feel so comfortable with her."

“That’s so sweet!” Isagi gushed.

“Yeah, it’s almost unbelievable.” Chigiri stared back with a surprised expression.

“Believe me, he treats me in ways I know no one else would treat me.” You said, almost flirtatiously, as you looked towards the others, falling back on your own, annoying tricks. “It’s almost shocking how… Passionate he can be.” You said, tracing your palm slowly over his chest, still staring at his friends.

Rin's expression grew more conflicted and his face turned even redder than before when your hand began lingering over his chest instead of just holding onto his arm. You were being too touchy. Too flirty. Too talkative— Even more so than before.

"(Y-Y/n)..." He mumbled, trying his best to stay calm and not let his irritation show.

”Yes, dear?” You asked, batting your eyelashes towards him, your hand still placed on his chest.

“Stop being so touchy.” He told you quietly, a hint of frustration leaking out. It was starting to get under his skin just how well you were acting out the role… And how strangely you were playing it.

“Oh! My apologies!” You drew your palm away and glanced at the others. “I realise that they shouldn’t know what we get up to in private.” You giggled, which only annoyed him more. Now you were leaving too much to the imagination, especially for your pretend relationship.

"Yeah..." He mumbled, trying his best to stay composed as he noticed the others begin to wonder what exactly he and you were getting up to outside of school now. “Yeah, they shouldn’t…”

Because of the way you were acting, Rin was seriously doubting even bothering with this whole ‘fake dating’ idea. Not because he was seen with you, but because of how your entire dynamic seemed to shift. You had gone from two polar opposites hating each other, to begrudgingly acting alongside each other, but with a clear objective in mind. He hated the falsehood of it all, and he hated how well you played the role.

[thenationofzaun]

Thoughts on Act 1 of Arcane Season 2

The positives:

- The animation is fucking incredible.

- Jinx and Sevika teaming up watered my crops and cleansed my skin.

- Underwater goodbye with Jinx and Silco. That scene was made specifically for me.

- Jinx's voice actress continues to be excellent.

- Loved the designs of all the Chembarons. The glimpse we got of the gang wars was also interesting. Unfortunately, too tiny a glimpse. Which brings me to...

The negatives:

- Too many plotlines. They stuffed the season with too much shit which is why each individual plot gets a much shorter screentime than it should. Smeech is introduced and killed in the same episode. Chembarons' gang wars, a huge issue which has repercussions on the entire Undercity, gets only one musical montage before moving on. And this is coming from someone who loved that montage, as well as the song. My favourite on the soundtrack so far. But musical montages shouldn't come at the expense of the story and definitely shouldn't replace the story. There are just way too many music video scenes in general that feel like a way to condense a storyline into the sparknotes version because they don't have the screentime to flesh it out. And they would have the screentime if they cut out all the extra stuffing. Look I'm happy for the League fans who are excited for the Black Rose and all that, but what the hell is it doing in a Piltover/Zaun show. And with zero foreshadowing in Season 1 too. It would definitely be easier to swallow if they had at least hinted at it in the first season. They could have kept Ambessa's beef with this magic cult for a Noxus show. The P/Z narrative has enough to deal with, enough characters to handle already.

- The new side characters are uninteresting and generic. Maddie and the two other enforcers (we don't even know their names after three episodes LMAO) are bland. We know nothing about their characters or personalities. Maddie looks like a rookie, and one of the dudes is an alcoholic, yet they get chosen for an elite strikeforce to capture Jinx? Isha is pretty generic too - the token cute kid that needs protecting. I get the role she will play in Jinx's arc. But that's the problem - she should be a character in her own right, not just a vehicle for someone else's character development. A good example is Mylo. He died for Jinx's arc, but when he was alive he was a distinct character with his own personality. We had a sense of his insecurities, his goals, who he was as a person. Name a single personality trait of Isha and Maddie other than "generically nice person". That's right. You can't.

- Whatever the hell is going on with Viktor. He wakes up from his coma and immediately rejects Jayce so quickly that it was funny. Apparently disapproves of Jayce using the Hexcore to save his life, but then immediately goes to use the Hexcore to save random Undercity people. Bruh. I also don't really like the way the fridged woman from last season seems to be his motivation so far. Nor the way he seems to have no agency in his Machine Herald arc. Instead of Viktor himself believing in transhumanism and mechanizing himself, Jayce does it for him. Instead of Viktor having an ideological drive and wanting a "Glorious Evolution", he is driven by guilt over Sky. Meh. Also he's not even mechanized, instead he's weirdly fleshy?? In a magical way?? More like The Magic Herald :(

- Vi. Her whole character is a mess. Insanely rushed arc which I find unacceptable for one of THE main characters and one of the faces of the show. She and Jinx are supposed to be the leads, their relationship the heart of the story, but so far only Jinx is a well-written fleshed out chaacter with a believable arc. I have too much to say about Vi so I'll expand more on this on another post.

- So much nuance and detail is missing. How does Heimerdinger feel about his ex-colleagues being killed? Does he care? Does he feel guilt? Relieved that he wasn't in the chamber when the bombing happened? No clue! Let's have comedy Mission Impossible instead! How does Ekko feel about the Council attack? Does he approve of it? Think Jinx went too far? How does he feel that she even survived their fight to begin with? No clue! Here, have him joking around with a Councilor for a bit (someone whom Ekko logically should despise), then he can talk Science with Jayce and all three get sent to another dimension together. Yay. What does Vi think happened to Ekko? The last time she saw him, he was fighting Jinx to the death to give Vi and Cait time to escape. He could be dead for all she knows and she doesn't give a fuck. Doesn't even think about him nor mention him once. It's like the writers forgot they're childhood friends. What does the entirety of Zaun make of Silco's death? I assume they heard about it from Piltover (who heard about it from Caitlyn), but how do they think it happened? His body is gone and to Zaun it seems he just mysteriously disappeared. Are there conspiracy theories? Conflicting accounts and rumours? So much nuance that would give the world and characters more depth, sacrificed so we can pack in more rushed subplots and music videos.

- Caitlyn "Wifebeater" Kiramman. And Caitvi in general. So far Caitlyn has guilt-tripped Vi, manipulated her into joining the enforcers, insulted her and then physically abused her. After Vi sacrificed everything for Cait, wore a badge she hates for Cait, even let Cait kill her own fucking sister (and only intervened when the random kid got involved). Why should I give a shit about such a one-sided relationship lmao. "B-but Cait's mom is dead so she's sad about it", every other fucking character in this show has dead parents. Half the cast has faced unfathomable amounts of trauma and pain that make Cait's pale in comparison. Nothing justifies her hitting Vi. "B-b-but it's a parallel to when Vi hit Powder", a shit parallel then. Because the circumstances are not even remotely comparable. "God forbid lesbians do anything🤪", give me a break with this corny bullshit. Be serious for a second. I'm not even a Vi fan and I think she deserves better than this mess of a relationship. The power dynamic between them makes it worse. The way Caitlyn is one of the richest people in the city and Vi is broke. The way Caitlyn is highly educated and Vi never went to school and spent her entire teen years locked in a box. Did the writers think about all this when writing their relationship? Keep in mind, Vi met Caitlyn like a week ago. She barely knows this chick. She's been out of prison FOR A WEEK. Where she was physically abused every fucking day. Putting her in a relationship with a cop who hits her would certainly be a choice! Do I have faith this show will handle it with care? Not really, no. They already ignore Vi's prison trauma. Most likely they will make Vi forgive Cait way too easily because "muh mummy muh grief".

[brainddeadd]

Yoongi x fem!reader

fluff

Yoongi feels bad.

He's been busy in the studio, and then away on tour and now he's got the flu. It's been months since he's seen you properly, which is unacceptable in his eyes. You're his best friend AND he's in love with you. He's dying to see you, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

But, see, Jimin knows Yoongi better than Yoongi knows himself. And Jimin knows that Yoongi misses you and needs you. He also knows that Yoongi won't do anything about it. So, he takes it upon himself to do something about it.

mini: can you please check on yoongi hyung?

mini: he's sick and we're all busy

y/n: he's sick???

y/n: why didn't he tell me????

mini: it's yoongi

mini: so you'll go?

y/n: im already in the car

You get to Yoongi's and let yourself in with the key he gave you all those years ago.

"Jiminnie, I told you I was fine!" Yoongi's voice travels down the hallway from the living room, where you'd bet money that he's sprawled out on the couch, re-runs of a drama you can't remember the name of playing on the tv.

"Not Jiminnie." You call back, kicking off your shoes and carrying the groceries into the kitchen. You can hear rustling and then a dishevelled and exhausted Yoongi appears in the doorway to the kitchen. He moves to help you unpack the groceries but you bat his hands away and gesture to the bar stools on the other side of his kitchen counter. He raises hands in defence and moves to sit.

"What are you doing here?" He's curious.

"Jiminnie texted me." You reply and he nods in understanding.

"You didn't have to." Yoongi raises his hands again when you level him with a glare. "Not that I don't appreciate it."

"You're sick and I can help take care of you."

"I'm not that sick." He looks like Death came knocking and he barely managed to fight him off.

"Min Yoongi, just let me take care of you for once." You give him a stern look, but your adoration and affection for him bleeds into the look. It's one he's not used to seeing from you.

"Thank you." His voice is soft, his shoulder's relaxed and you swear that there's love in his eyes.

"I want to take care of you. It's not a chore or a job or something that's difficult and a nuisance for me." You tell him, reaching over the counter to hold his hand. "I always want to take care of you."

You pull your hand away instantly, terrified that was too far, too much, too close to a confession. Yoongi thinks his heart might beat out of his chest.

"I always want to take care of you too." His voice is soft and he reaches for your hands again. The look on his face telling you that you're not wrong about this.

"How about we take care of each other?"

His smile is blinding, even through the exhaustion of his flu.

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 6

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Flirting and talk of sex. We are starting to pine! Summary: Spending more time around Javi is as awkward as it is anything else, but spending some time with the girls has you approaching the situation a little differently after weeks of uncertainty. Notes: Introducing Elisa! Inner conflict, forced proximity, and a little soul searching are the name of the game.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

Days tick by until it becomes weeks, and every apartment you look at is deemed either unsafe or unfit or otherwise unacceptable. The rent is too high or it doesn’t come furnished, or they don’t allow dogs. Señora Perrín had told you Chi-Chi couldn’t come to her son’s house because she generally hated men, and had said you should either keep her or bring her to a shelter.

It broke your heart that she could just give the precious guard dog up so easily and you’d been next to tears cuddling Chi-Chi on the living room floor when Javier came home from a stakeout. There was no discussion about it. Javier had just given the dog a half smile and said it was a damn good thing she liked him, because she was already settled.

On this particular morning you’re up before Javier which is incredible in and of itself. Sitting at the table with the local paper circling newspaper ads for apartments you haven’t already seen feels futile, but you have to keep trying.

Javi rolls his shoulders as he shuffles into the kitchen. He had been needing to start the coffee pot, but you’re already there, the pot full except for the cup at your elbow. “Morning.” He grunts, walking by the table and snatching up your already lit cigarette for a quick drag. You smoke the same ones he does and he’s never been shy about sharing a cigarette. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling the nicotine flooding his system. “Ran out last night.” He explains. You’re looking in the paper again and he almost asks why when it’s obvious you are settled here, but he doesn’t. You might want your own space and he doesn’t feel like it’s his place to press. You might share marks and have managed to be somewhat friendly to each other, but it hasn’t gone beyond that.

“Morning.” The ritual is usually the opposite, but he seems to adjust alright today. And today, like every other, you drag your eyes away from the sliver of tanned skin that shows at his waistline when he reaches up for a mug or to scratch the back of his neck like he does when he’s tired. “You wanna take the rest of my pack to work? I can pick more up from that corner store that stocks American while I’m apartment hunting.”

“I’ll stop on the way.” He shakes his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking that first blessed sip, “Fuuuuuuuck.” He groans again in appreciation. “I don’t know how, but your coffee is always so good.”

“I refuse to give up my secret.” The pinch of cinnamon you add to the coffee grounds whenever you make a pot has turned out to be his unexpected favorite. It warms you deep in your chest with something you can’t name, but you always smile at the compliment. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want breakfast.” He rarely sticks around long enough in the mornings to eat anything freshly cooked, but at least he’s eating something.

“I don’t have time.” He admits. “Fucking overslept as it is.” He’s been pulling a lot of late nights, but he’s still been insisting on going in on time. Pablo getting fucking elected to office has lit a fire under his ass to prove the bastard is dirty.

It would be domestic — mothering, even — to suggest he take something with him so you swallow it off of the tip of your tongue. “Take my cigarettes, then,” you insist, putting the pack in his hand. Instead you offer something far less invasive. “Don’t waste the time stopping. I got my column in yesterday so I’m free as a bird to get more today.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grateful smile and nods as he takes another sip of the coffee before he checks his watch. “Shit.” He gulps down another mouthful and dumps the cup in the sink. “I’ll take care of that when I get home.” He’s noticed you’ve cleaned up when he’s too busy and he doesn’t want you to think you need to do that. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you later.” Maybe tonight. Maybe not. Sometimes he runs into the apartment for something and then goes out again and you don’t see him until the next day. He doesn’t ever stop working, night and day.

He grabs his keys. “See you.” He manages before the phone in his pocket starts ringing. “Shit. Peña. Yeah, yeah I’m on my way.” He grunts as he closes the door and jogs down the hall towards the front of the building.

"Well girl..." Your eyes slide to the dog as she watches Javier leave, whining mournfully in her well-claimed spot on the living room rug. "Looks like it's just you and me again today. You wanna stretch out on my lap while I call landlords?"

******

The morning goes surprisingly well and there’s even time to meet Connie and one of her work friends for lunch at Steve’s insistence. “We could be working.” Javi grumbles as he lights up the last cigarette from the pack you had given him.

“It wouldn’t kill you to socialize once in a while,” Steve reminds him, nudging him toward whatever little place Connie and her friend had deemed appropriate for lunch.

“I socialize.” Javi snorts, even though he’s not once been to see the girls since you’ve unexpectedly moved in. It’s been limited to his hand in the shower every fucking night.

“When?” Steve grins, infinitely amused. “When you’re grumbling at paperwork in the office? When you’re sleeping? Are you even going to that brothel anymore? You don’t even leave the office at lunch like you used to.” He used to go to see the working girls on lunch break or after work. He knows it — they pretty much all unofficially know it. But not lately. He just doesn’t know what’s changed.

“Why are you so goddamn interested in where I stick my dick?” Javi cuts his eyes over at his partner before he yanks the door open and walks into the little restaurant. It’s annoying that Steve has clocked his habits and even more annoying that he’s noticed the change. He hasn’t told Steve about you. Neither you being his soulmate or living with him temporarily.

“Because you’re fuckin cranky when you don’t get any,” Steve mutters at his back, letting Peña bust past him into the place while he trails behind and snickers.

He rolls his eyes and pulls a chair out at a table. “You’re entirely too fucking cheerful.” He grumbles, wishing he had just told Steve he was working through lunch. He’s exhausted and honestly needs a day off.

“Just needed a little sunshine in my day,” the other man announces, beaming when he sees his own soulmate and wife walk through the door.

“Sunshine.” He huffs, crushing out a cigarette but immediately perking up when a very attractive brunette comes in behind Connie. Obviously an extra and Javi decides that a little flirting is exactly what he needs.

"Hey!" Connie Murphy comes breezing in with a smile on her face and a kiss for her husband. "Sorry I'm late, honey."

"Hey." Steve accepts the gesture of affection readily, taking both of her cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips to hers with a happy hum.

"Javier." When Connie stands up again at the table, she gestures to the brunette who came in in back of her. "This is my friend Elisa." To her friend, she explains: "Javier works with Steve."

Javi gets out of his chair and shakes her hand, enjoying how soft and warm it is. She's got a nice set of tits, and he's not feeling guilty about looking after he had that conversation with you. "Nice to meet you." He greets her and pulls out her chair for her as they both sit down.

"Are you another...janitor at the embassy? Like Steve?" Elisa asks, smirking slightly because that seems to be such a lame excuse.

"No, actually I'm CIA." Javi lies with a straight face. He glances at Steve. "But that's classified, so don't tell anybody."

The Murphys exchange expressions of raised eyebrows with each other and then with Javi, as if to tell him to cool it with the sarcasm. Somebody can and will overhear him and take him seriously.

Javi continues on. “I’m here to hunt communists and prevent the Marxist invasion from Cuba.” He’s lit another cigarette and holds it in his hand. “The janitor thing, that was you?” He asks Steve, who hums unhappily as Javi continues to talk. “No, that’s just a cover.” He tells her, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Elisa laughs, slightly unsure but willing to bet he's nearly telling the truth and that he's doing it in spite of the Murphys. She likes Connie, but the American woman is a little too earnest for her own good. "Thank you for being so honest," she says to Javier instead, and picks up on the overt honesty played like a lie tempo at the table. "Just so you know," she adds playfully. "I'm a communist guerrilla."

Javi laughs, along with Connie, and Steve gives a halfhearted smile. “Perfect.” Javi tells her with a wink.

"Yeah," Steve huffs, looking between the other two at the table before bringing his eyes back to his wife and nearly shrugging. It's obvious Elisa and Javi are on some kind of wavelength that he and Connie are not. "Perfect." He says the word but huffs it doubtfully.

Javi smirks at his partner, picking up on his mood but he doesn’t pay it any attention. “Tell me, how did you just start working at the clinic?” Javier asks Elise, as he looks over the menu. Catching sight of a meal that he thinks you would like since you like those falafel things and hating that he’s thinking about you right now.

"Everyone needs a job, don't they?" Elisa poses, acting like the answer doesn't quite matter when it truly doesn't. Not really anyway. Her work as a nurse is not the work she will be known for.

“That’s right.” Javi blows a ring of smoke up into the air and grins a Connie. He likes Murphy’s wife and it’s obvious that she’s the one that is the more outgoing of the two of them.

“So,” Connie poses, trying to brighten the mood at the table. “Lunch?”

“That sounds good.” Javi glances at the menu again and smirks at his partner. “Need some help?” He asks, knowing Steve’s reading comprehension of Spanish is worse than his speaking abilities.

“Shut up, Peña.” Steve mutters, grateful when Connie leans in to help him instead. His grasp of Spanish is growing, but at a snail’s pace.

Javi snickers quietly, feeling a little better after giving him some shit back after having to listen to Steve bring up soulmates every chance he gets. Thank god he hadn’t told him who his soulmate is, or that you are staying with him right now.

Connie ends up ordering for Steve despite his semi-valiant attempts at pronouncing the menu items, and the amusement at the table lifts the mood considerably. It’s not often any of them get to laugh anymore, and even a moment of it seems to relax everyone considerably.

“It’s good that you can meet us for lunch.” Javi tells them as they finish their sodas and wait for refills.

"I've got to see my soulmate sometimes," Connie teases lightly, leaning into Steve's side. "Dinners aren't a sure thing, so lunch seemed like the best time."

“And that means I get to eat.” Steve huffs, cutting his eyes back at Javi. His partner has a habit of living off coffee and cigarettes.

"Do you not eat?" Elisa asks Javier, curious that he seems to be getting the ire of his friends.

“Too busy working.” Javi shrugs one shoulder. “We grab something if there’s time.”

"Food is one of life's few pleasures." she returns, although she can think of quite a few other pleasures this man might be fun to indulge in with. "Pleasures are few and far between."

Javi takes another drag off his cigarette and grins at Elisa. “You’re right.” He admits.

"So why deny yourself?" She asks, nodding toward the direction their server is approaching from.

“Why indeed?” Javi thinks about you for a moment, before he pushes that out of his mind. You don’t want to do anything about your status so he shouldn’t worry about it.

"Yeah." Steve looks between the two of them with absolute incredulousness. "Why?" He really feels like he should be a reason but Javi won't say a goddamn word about his soulmate so he can't say too much.

Javi rolls his eyes and leans back as the server sets the meal down in front of you. “Hurry up.” He tells his partner. “We have to go meet Carillo after this.”

"Right." Steve snorts, ready to dig into his lunch right away. "No rest for the wicked."

“Never is.” Javi snorts and wishes he had a beer, or a glass of whiskey. When he left the apartment, you had still been asleep. He wonders what you are up to.

"Are you particularly wicked?" Elisa asks, partially for herself and partially because it amuses her to scandalize Connie with that type of question.

“Some might think so.” He admits, thinking about the question from an outsider’s point of view. “I’m flawed, but at the base of my life, I want to do good.”

That seems to surprise the other Americans at the table, but the Murphys choose not to tease – instead settling into their meal and deciding that a small amount of talk amongst themselves is more polite. Javier and Elisa seem to have slipped into a private conversation at the drop of a hat.

"Is that what you're doing?" She asks, picking up her fork and tilting her head toward the man beside her. Elisa didn't come here to flirt, but the man she has been introduced to is interesting and it won't be the worst thing in the world to chat him up for a half hour or more. "Doing good?"

“Some days it doesn’t seem that way.” Javi admits, eating his own food without really paying attention to it. “Not like health care.” More of what he does is unhealth care.

"Health care is...different than people expect it to be." Elisa tells him honestly. Not to mention that that is not the focus of her life. It was once, but not now. "Sometimes you wonder if you have done any good at all."

“I feel the same way.” He agrees, wondering if it’s that way everywhere, with any job. Maybe his pop was right and growing things was the answer all along.

"Maybe that's part of being human?" She wonders aloud, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

“Who knew you could get philosophical over lunch?” Javi snorts, although he had actually excelled in philosophy in college.

She smiles, admittedly charmed, and she will have to confess later that Connie was right to warn her about her husband's partner. "I would have looked forward to this lunch even more if I had known."

He smirks slightly and glances over at the server as they refill his drink. Nodding his thanks before he looks back at her. “Well, now you can look forward to the next one.”

“I definitely will.” Elisa agrees, and the smile on her lips promises that she hopes to be looking forward to much more than that.

******

When a familiar car pulls up down the block, Freckles is the one that recognizes it. “Holy shit.” She huffs, turning towards the room where Helena and Vanessa are lounging. Helena hasn’t been taking clients, but she had been here to pack. Gathering all the things that she wanted and giving away the things she didn’t. “She’s here.”

“Who?” Helena asks, her attention to focused on carefully braiding Vanessa’s wet hair to achieve some natural waves after it dries. A new style she wanted to try.

She says your name, lifting a brow as she looks at the other two women. “I wonder if she’s just here for a follow up interview for an article.”

“Can’t be for us…” Helena’s head pops up immediately. She knows that you are their friend, but it would be a simple enough thing to see them outside of a professional setting if you just wanted to spend time with friends. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” Vanessa frowns slightly. “She wasn’t happy with us knowing about her and Javier. She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t.”

“You think she came because she’s mad at us?” Freckles asks, frowning at the thought.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think she will yell at us, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The other woman shrugs. “Maybe she’s tired of Javi.” She snorts. “She does like eating pussy.”

“You think they’re fucking already?” Helena asks, frowning doubtfully. “They seemed…at odds with each other.”

“I didn’t mean they were fucking.” She corrects. “Just tired of him. Isn’t she staying with him since her apartment was raided?”

“Yeah.” Helena nods, shifting up from the couch to peak through the window. You’re just out of sight so you must be on your way in. “With the sweetest dog.”

“Javier has a dog in his apartment?” Freckles finds that hilarious and throws her head back laughing. “How domestic.”

“You know the guard dog?” Helena and Vanessa laugh along with her. They have, at various points now, all been to your apartment. “The sweet girl who sits at the top of the stairs? She is with them now.”

“But doesn’t she hate men?” Her eyes widen for a moment before she giggles again. “I can’t see Javi sneaking around his own apartment.”

“I can’t imagine he’s hiding from both of them.” Freckles shrugs. “Maybe that’s why she’s here. Like you said.”

"We will see." Helena knows that even if you are upset, you wouldn't take it out on them. You weren't that way, more of a defender than an abuser.

The knock on the door comes a moment later, but the door doesn’t open immediately. Unlike other clients, you have always been respectful of their privacy.

Freckles wanders over to the door and opens it, smiling brightly when she sees you and pulls you in for a hug. "It is good to see you!"

You came here with a purpose. You did. But seeing the three of them together — stunning women who know you far too well — seems to spook you out of your resolve. “H—hi,” you murmur instead, kissing her cheek and giving her a gentle squeeze back. Not too tight. Not too close.

"Come in." She offers immediately, stepping back and opening the door wider. "Unless you are here to just see one of us?" She asks curiously, wondering if it is simply the business of pleasure that brings you here.

“I wasn't sure who would be here.” It feels like more of a confession than you meant it to, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Okay.” Freckles glances over at the other two. “We can leave if you want to talk to Helena?” She offers.

"No–no, I..." You deflate a little, realizing that you're far less sure of this plan than you thought you were while driving here. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have come."

Vanessa frowns and shakes her head even though Helena is still working on it. “Don’t be silly.” She chides. “You are always welcomed here.”

"I don't want to intrude." Also, you somehow forgot about the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, which has your own reflection staring back at you in ways you would rather avoid.

“Why would you be intruding?” For a moment, Freckles wants to ask if you were checking to see if Javier is here, or has been here, but she doesn’t. You do seem upset, but not at them.

"I don't know." And that is all the more confusing, which brings you from flustered and embarrassed to emotional all at once. A single chin wobble feels like six with the hyperaware state you're in right now and you look around at three pairs of beautiful eyes that only make you feel all the more ridiculous. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not feeling well, I guess." You turn to go, ready to haul ass and hide yourself in Chi-Chi's fur and try to blot out the world, but Helena has gotten up to block the way in a flash.

“Stay.” She urges you, reaching out and taking your shoulders in her hands to physically turn you back towards the room. “Please.”

"I haven't...been myself lately," you admit, looking around at the three of them again.

“Because of what we told you?” Helena frowns, feeling guilty as she guides you over to the bed.

"Not...directly?" She has you sit down, and the other two girls come to sit on the bed with you, gathered around you as if you were all simply here to gossip instead of you having found yourself in the middle of an existential crisis. "It's a long story."

“If you don’t want to talk…” Vanessa senses that you are pent up and she puts her hand on your thigh. “We can always find other ways to entertain ourselves until you do want to talk.”

“I’m not going to make you do that anymore.” The realization, swift and certain, makes you swallow the lump you hadn’t sensed forming in your throat. Coming here may have been a very bad idea, actually… “I—I mean…I thought that’s what I wanted. And why I came. But I don’t think so anymore.”

Helena reaches out and touches your cheek gently. “Javier?” She asks softly, aware that you might be feeling guilty. “He hasn’t come to see us either. If that’s what you want to know.”

"It doesn't have anything to do with Javier." As soon as it's out of your mouth – defensive and swift – you flinch and shake your head. "It doesn't have to do with him being...what he is to me, I mean."

“Oh.” The girls exchange looks but don’t say anything. There’s obviously something wrong, but they won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. They just wait.

It all comes pouring out in the face of their solid sympathy. The fights you and Javier had in the beginning, everything Alex said. The way every passing week that you live with Javier has you convinced that the universe must have been wrong. That you have stopped being able to even glance past a mirror on any sort of daily basis for fear of what you will find staring back at you. "I thought I was just lonely," you admit, under the gaze of three sets of worried eyes. "I thought I just needed to find some company to feel better again. But I walked through your door and just felt like I would be demeaning any of you by asking you to take me to bed."

Helena frowns and Vanessa and Freckles shake their heads in disagreement. “Do you think that we just fuck you because you pay us?” Freckles asks, folding her arms over her chest. “Because we don’t. We enjoy our time with you. In and out of bed.”

"I'm not thinking straight right now." The wording is unfortunate, but at least it's honest. "I don't really trust my own perspective. So while I know, deeply, because you're my friends, that you've never lied to me about enjoying yourself. I just can't..." Searching for the words has you huffing and shaking your head all over again. "I can't believe it or understand it."

“Because of what that bitch said about you?” Vanessa looks mad enough to spit nails. The fight that had been instigated to defend your honor hadn’t made you feel better and the words that you had learned were said about you had cut deep.

"This is...let's call it a lifelong problem." Sitting back against the pillows on the bed, you just drop your face into your hands and sigh. "I'm sorry to have dumped all of this on the three of you. Really."

“After what you have done for us?” Helena rolls her eyes and grabs a pack of cigarettes to offer you one. “You’re crazy.”

"Probably." You admit, letting out a half-laugh and accepting a cigarette.

“He was wrong.” Freckles tells you. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She promises. “You are soft and gorgeous. Warm and sensuous.”

"It's hard to see any kind of truth through my own doubt." Inhaling fire and exhaling smoke is such a seemingly small ritual, but it centers you in a way that you need right now. Like maybe if you had had just sat down and had a cigarette or two or three, you might not have had to bare your soul to these three kind women. To your friends – you have to remember that point. These are your friends. "I don't know if there is any truth. Looks and attraction and all of that...it's all subjective anyway."

“It is subjective.” That all the women can agree on. “My first love, he was ugly by any standards.” Freckles snorts. “But I fucked his brains out every chance I got.”

“You loved him,” you point out, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “That makes all the difference.”

“And you don’t love Javier.” She murmurs, bewildered by the idea that you might not even be attracted to your soulmate. She reaches over and takes your hand. “Not all soulmates are sexual.” She reminds you. “Javi would never force you.”

“I barely know Javier.” It feels like an entirely lame defense, but it’s true. And besides which you’re not even sure why you feel the need to defend yourself at all. But you do.

“I thought you were staying at his apartment?” Vanessa looks surprised by the fact you haven’t gotten close to him.

“I am.” It’s been nearly impossible to find a place that will let you keep Chi-Chi that you can afford and is reasonably safe, and you have just ended up there indefinitely. “But it isn’t as though we sit around the kitchen cooking meals together and having some sort of domestic fantasy.”

“So you avoid each other?” Helena frowns, not liking that at all. Javier needs a connection with someone, he is dangerously close to burnout and making mistakes and the physicality has been removed, so the emotional was definitely needed. Unless he had found comfort somewhere else.

“Not actively. I mean I sit in the living room reading at night and sometimes he’s home. We both just work constantly.” Shrugging just feels even more pathetic now but you’re not sure what else to do. “We just…don’t talk a lot when the two of us are there.”

"You are both so alike it's almost scary." Vanessa sighs softly and shakes her head.

“Stubborn and frustrating?” You guess, huffing out a half-laugh.

"YES!" All three women laugh when they answer at the same time.

The suddenness of it startles a chuckle out of you, until all four of you are laughing in a heap on the bed together. “This is what I needed,” you sigh, breathing through another laugh as Freckles hugs you to her side. “To see my friends.”

“Why don’t you fuck Javi?” She suggests playfully. “He will have you feeling good.”

“I walked in here so insecure I couldn’t even kiss any of you.” You remind them gently. “I don’t know that I’m in a place to be fucking anyone.”

"What has made you so insecure?" Helena demands, hating that you would feel that way. "Explain it to me."

You all but huff at her, feeling your shoulders round all over again. “Is being called a whale not enough?”

She frowns, reaching out and lifting your chin. "You – the woman who fought to come to Colombia, who was angry that your bosses would not let you go undercover in a brothel – let a tiny dicked man who never made you cum think badly about yourself?" She asks furiously, although her tone is softly censuring. "When your soulmate was so enraged on your behalf that he started a fight for your honor?"

The other girls murmur their agreement, but you feel all the more sheepish at having it put like that. “You make it sound very romantic.”

“It kind of is romantic.” She grins. “Especially knowing that Javier looks very sexy when he’s angry.”

"If you like him when he's angry, you'd probably be amused as hell at how we fight." It's been a week or so since the last time you argued, but the fights are fewer and farther between now, as well as shorter. Last time it had been as stupid and domestic as you getting annoyed about the schedule you worked out for feeding the dog.

“What could you possibly fight about when you barely talk?” Vanessa asks.

"Stupid things."

"You fight because you don't talk." Helena points out. And knowing you both as well as she does, she has it right on the money.

“Why don’t you do something together?” Freckles suggests. “Watch a movie?”

It's such a small, simple thing. A movie. Not a date, not a spectacle. Just a stupid, normal little movie on tv while you sit on the couch. It's...oddly appealing, actually. But you're still unsure. "Does he ever sit still long enough for something like that?"

“I’m sure you could convince him to.” Helena smirks, although she’s convinced Javier is only still when he’s asleep, or on a stakeout.

"You're all so very certain that I could get him to do anything I wanted." It's frustrating in a completely different way. Because you simply can't see how or why they believe it.

“Javi wants a connection with someone.” Vanessa hums. “Even if he won’t admit it. Even if he fights it.”

"Something else I guess we have in common, then." They know you too well for you to pretend otherwise. They know your tendency to run. To hide. To push away emotional connections. Even Alex had been kept at arm's length, but had managed to crack away at that deep desire for affection enough to hurt you with it. The bastard.

“We told you that you are the exact same.” Freckles rolls her eyes and leans in to press her lips to yours playfully with a smack.

"Apparently so." The gesture is received with gratitude, even if your heart feels a little heavier as you start to really believe what your friends have been telling you. "I'm not sure there is anything to do about it, though."

“Why?” Helena asks, wondering what could be so monumental to keep soulmates from being together.

"We sort of talked about it. The first night I stayed with him. When my building was raided." And the number of times you have gone back over it in your head since then is positively shameful. "He pretty much said he's not interested in being together. So it's all...moot. I guess."

“This was after your argument over me?” Helena asks, tsking when you nod. “The first strike.” She whispers to the other girls and they groan and nod in agreement.

"What do you mean 'strike'?" You ask, frowning.

“He rejected you before you could reject him.” She sighs. “Stupid bastard.”

"Alright, well..." Somehow that hurts far worse than you could have predicted, and you lean back in the pillows with a frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's still a rejection."

Vanessa huffs and throws up her hands. “Both of you, stubborn!” She hisses. “You would have done the same and you know it. You are two sides to the same mirror.”

"So what am I supposed to do about it, then?" You hiss back, feeling stung and stuck and just a tad insulted to boot. "Beg him to reconsider? Seduce him? Plead with my soulmate to give me another chance? Fuck that."

“One of you will have to bend.” Helena sighs. “It will just be a matter of who.”

"Now you see why I'm so frustrated." So frustrated that you could not see the light for all the dark around you. But your friends have helped that more than you expected.

“I am surprised Javi let you live with him.” Freckles admits. “He has never lived with anyone.”

"He feels guilty." At least that's what you assumed. It probably doesn't do any good to assume, but that is what you've done. "Because it was his team that raided my building."

“And he could have found you a place to live inside of an hour.” Vanessa snorts.

"I've been looking for weeks," you remind her, sheepish and embarrassed that it has taken you so long.

“Javier has been here for years.” She reminds you. “How do you think he got such an amazing apartment?”

"I can't figure out if you're implying that he's letting me look fruitlessly or that he's actively sabotaging my attempts to find somewhere else to live." Either one is deeply confusing and has complicated connotations, and you're not entirely sure what to do about it.

“That’s something you will have to ask him about.” All three women shrug and give you unsure looks.

“Full, meaningful conversation, huh?” You sigh, knowing they’re right. “That’s probably the respectful thing to do.”

“You do what you need to do.” Freckles tells you. “Only you and Javier can determine what happens. Not anyone else.”

“I’d much rather have it just all work itself out for us,” you admit, though the complaint is half-hearted. Having something handed to you means it’s never quite as satisfactory or as lasting.

Helena snorts and leans against you playfully. “You can do that.” She admits. “It will be an interesting journey.”

******

You’re still trying to figure out what the hell kind of journey could possibly be ahead of you when Javier comes home that night. It’s earlier than usual but still not what any normal person would call early. Thankfully you’re both night owls, so you’re in the process of making some dinner when the door opens. Having managed to track down an Italian market in an immigrant community in Bogotá during your first weeks there, you continue to make the pilgrimage whenever you need to stock up on ingredients.

Tonight you wanted comfort food — chunks of beef slowly stewed with onions, garlic, mushrooms, and carrots in tomatoes and red wine. The whole thing will be ladled over creamy, cheesy polenta and you can’t wait. These recipes your father taught you still mean everything to you as a grown woman.

He smells the food from the hallway. Different than the normal scents of cooking from other apartments and yet it is just as mouthwatering. He comes into the door and groans quietly. “I’m back.” He calls out politely.

“You’re home early.” It’s just an observation, but it feels so incredibly domestic in your current setting. “I got a little nostalgic and made a ton of food. Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.” Javi admits. “We had this little place in Laredo that did the little tea candles on the table. Best damn lasagna I’ve ever had.”

“Lasagna is one of my ultimate comfort meals.” And it sticks somewhere in your head that you’ll have to make it for him sometime. Cooking is soothing for you, after all. And an excellent way to say thank you for letting me live in your apartment and refusing to take my rent money every time I offer. “This is my dad’s version of Italian beef stew with polenta.”

He makes an impressed face and nods. “Sounds good. Do I have time for a shower?” He asks, feeling sticky and wanting to wash away the filth of the day.

"Yeah, absolutely." It's suddenly become a whole to-do, this comfort dinner of yours, but you nod. Somehow it's so much easier to see how handsome he is tonight. Like talking with the girls today had softened some of the sharp edges you had imagined before. "We could...turn on a movie while we eat? If you want to?"

He looks over at you in surprise, but your back is to him, stirring the pot at the stove furiously. Either the stew is temperamental or you are avoiding looking at him. “That sounds good.” He admits. “Cabinet under the tv has some tapes.” He tells you. “A few movies my pop sent me.”

"Okay." Stirring the polenta is just a way to distract yourself so he doesn't catch you staring at him, but that's alright. It needs to be stirred anyway. "I'll pick something out and set it up."

“Okay, uh, I’ll just jump in the shower then.” He mumbles, feeling slightly out of sorts now that you’ve agreed to this. It feels intimate, domestic, like an evening at home between soulmates would be.

"Okay." Repeating the word feels awkward, but you try to dismiss the feeling as nerves or tension. Everything is totally fine. It's just a meal. You've eaten together plenty of times before.

Heading back to his room, his movements are completely in autopilot. Unclipping his badge and gun from his hip, setting them down in his dresser and emptying his pockets. Memories of his parents sitting on the old flowered sofa in their living room watching a movie or tv show when he was younger springs to mind. Peeking around the corner from the kitchen and listening to his mother giggle quietly and seeing them kiss before he scurried back to his room.

By the time he comes back out again, you have dinner set up in bowls, two glasses of wine poured from what was left in the bottle, and his well-loved copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark in the VCR. "Bad day?" You ask, trying to be as casual and normal as possible when you catch the moody expression on his face. You probably haven't hit it at all, but you're trying.

“Every day I don’t catch that bastard is a bad day.” Javi snorts and shakes his head. “It’s frustrating. Feeling like we are just spinning our wheels again.”

"I refuse to believe you got nothing done today." He's too clever and too dedicated for that, but you won't belabor the point. "Anyway, it's late and there's not much you can do for the rest of tonight. But dinner is hot and there's booze."

That sounds fucking amazing and Javi groans in appreciation. “You didn’t have to do all this.” He reminds you, gesturing to the meal set out on the coffee table.

"I thought it would be nice." Technically speaking, you didn't make this meal for him. It is a comfort for you with the added side benefit of there being plenty to share with him. But there is something in his voice that stops you from saying so.

Javi sits down and then second guesses himself. “Do you want to sit here?” He asks, getting back up.

"Sit wherever you want." He's nervous and you're trying not to let it put you on edge too. This was just a spur of the moment idea that seemed like a nice way to spend the night. "It is your couch."

He snorts and shrugs. “I don’t care where I sit, but you might have claimed a certain corner as your own.” He jokes.

"Normally that's just whatever corner Chi-Chi has left for me when she sprawls out over the entire couch." You joke. He had let her up on his furniture on day two of having the two of you in his place and she never looked back.

“I feel like she would take up all the space if you gave her half a chance. Even a king-sized bed.” He rolls his eyes and looks over at the dog that is currently sprawled over the floor.

"Oh, believe me." With your bowls and wine sitting on the coffee table, you come closer and sit down in the corner of the couch that he isn't occupying. "Half the time when I crawl into bed at night, she's sprawled out over the entire mattress. So I have no trouble imagining she would take up a king if she can dominate my full size."

Javi frowns. “Then we should get you a bigger bed.” He hadn’t really thought much about the size of the bed in the guest room. It was just there for someone to sleep if needed and until Helena and you, it had never been used.

"You don't..." You had been reaching for your wine glass when he said it and you almost knock it over by accident. "You don't have to do that. I mean...it's your apartment. I'm just staying here through the seemingly interminable search for an apartment. I really can't figure out why it's so damn hard to find a place this time around."

Javi hums and doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he reaches for his own wine glass. “You’ll find one eventually.” He finally says.

"Eventually." The girls' words float through your mind again, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye as you pick up your glass more securely. "You know...you've been here longer than me. I'm surprised you don't know anyone looking for a tenant."

His eyes slide he to you and then back to the tv where the beginning of the movie is finally starting after the commercials. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for something that would be good for you.” He tells you vaguely.

"Yeah?" Deciding to play the cards you have, you take a sip of your wine and then set the glass down to pick up your bowl. Dinner smells amazing and it's finally going to be cool enough to eat without burning yourself. "The girls seem to think you wouldn't have had any trouble. And that you might not mind having me around."

Javi nearly drops his spoon, hissing a curse and bobbles it for a second before catching it. “Yeah?” He turns to purse his lips at you grumpily. “The girls don’t know everything, do they?”

"Hey," you shrug, playing it off like you aren't fishing for information but giving something up instead. "I thought it was kind of nice that they thought that. Like we might actually be getting used to each other."

He relaxed slightly and turns back to towards the tv and his stew. “You don’t annoy me as much as you first did.” He snorts. “And you cook.”

"So it's purely functional." It's just light teasing, because you're not really questioning him or calling him out. It's just...nice to hear the good humor in his voice. "Maybe...you would let me pay rent in groceries and cooking? Instead of cash?"

“You don’t have to pay rent.” He huffs out, rolling his eyes as you bring up the idea yet again. “I would have to rent this place even if you didn’t sleep in that room.” He points out again. “And the electricity and water are included. It costs me nothing.”

Your hand, spoon and all, stop halfway to your mouth. "You...don't pay rent? Like at all?"

That wasn’t what he said, but he shrugs. “Technically? No.” He admits. “DEA pays for it. And it’s under the set amount they give us. So I make money every month.”

"Well shit..." The fact that you misunderstood him at first doesn't change the meaning of the thing. His housing stipend more than covers the cost of the space you have both been living in. You almost sputter around the fact, but end up biting your lip and shrugging exaggeratedly. "Fine. I'll just cook because I like to and because we both need to eat." Looking over at him though, your head tilts unconsciously. "But...maybe it would be okay if I stop looking for a different place?"

Even though he’s honestly relieved that you are voicing that, Javi jolts one shoulder up in the air casually, as if it doesn’t matter to him. “Up to you.” He grunts as he spoons up a first bite of the stew and polenta. “If you’re comfortable here.”

“Chi-Chi is.” You nod toward the enormous sprawl of an animal nearby. She’s found a corner of rug and isn’t giving it up for anything. “I guess that settles it.” As if the dog’s comfort and happiness were the only factor, you simply start eating, turning your attention to the screen with a smile curling your lips.

It’s probably the first thing that you’ve not argued with him about and he grunts, wondering if it’s because you feel safer here, or if the fact that he had spread word that the American woman looking for an apartment was important to the DEA had scared people off. He doesn’t regret it at all. Eventually someone would know about your connection to him, and he didn’t want that used and you to be harmed.

It’s several minutes later when you laugh to yourself during the movie that you realize how simultaneously comfortable and tense you are here these days. And that the tension isn’t the walking on eggshells kind of tension you’ve had with other people in the past. But something almost eager. Like it’s on the verge of actually being pleasurable. But that might just be the soulmate bond talking. Either way, you go on eating and smiling to yourself, wondering if he feels it too or if you’re just too convinced by what the girls had to say today.

Hearing you snort in amusement; Javi looks over at you to find you grinning. “Have a think for this guy?” He asks with a smirk, nodding towards the tv. Most of the office girls in the typing pool swoon over Harrison Ford.

“Who doesn’t?” You counter, unashamed to admit to it. “Just like every other woman my age, right? Every guy I know is in love with Michelle Pfeiffer. It’s the same deal.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “She’s alright.” He answers. “I don’t really fantasize about women who wouldn’t even know my name.” He admits. “I like the ones I’ve got a chance with.”

“Fantasizing is an integral part of my day to day,” you tell him, glancing away from the screen to see if he’s looking at you. You can’t tell if you’re hoping for it or not, but you’re curious.

He watches you turn your head and look into his eyes. His curiosity getting the best of him. “And what do you fantasize about?” His voice is suddenly raspier, dropping into a lower, more intimate pitch.

“I—” You hadn’t meant it like that. In fact you’d barely thought about what you were saying when you said it. But now that he’s asked? The coil in your guts tightens and you swallow thickly. “Lots of things.” The truth sparks from you like wildfire. “W—waking up wrapped in someone…those little touches that are electric with someone new…the whole, uh…the whole…work surprise thing…”

“Work surprise?” He frowns slightly. “Like fucking in the broom closet?” He asks, trying to understand you a bit better even if this is more than he ever thought he would know. You aren’t interested in him, but he’s curious.

“Not what I was thinking.” You laugh, though, trying not to pay attention to the way your skin tingles in response to the idea of him dragging you into a closet for anything remotely sexual. “I was thinking more like…the romance of a surprise. My mom used to make excuses to go surprise my dad at work every single week. Just because she knew how hard he worked, and she wanted there to always be something to look forward to on the hardest days.”

“Your mom would go to your dad’s work to fuck him?” He remembers that your dad was a chef and he chuckles. “I heard some kinky shit happens in a kitchen.”

“I mean…” The realization is striking, that that probably is exactly what was happening, and you sputter for a few seconds out of sheer surprise. “She always told us she was just going to spend his breaks with him, but…probably.”

He laughs quietly, watching the realization rush over your face. “It’s always weird to think about your parents fucking.” He reaches over and pats your thigh. “It’s okay.”

“She just always made it sound very romantic,” you admit, dissolving into laughter.

“Fucking can be romantic.” He chuckles. “And romance can be a passionate quickie.” He snorts, “My parents probably used the hay loft more than I did.”

“See, stripping down in a hayloft to roll around on a blanket does sound romantic.” Or maybe you just have a little bit of a cowboy kink. Who knows? “A restaurant stock room? Not so much.”

He smirks as he shrugs. “Depends on what gets you going.” He argues playfully. “Maybe mayonnaise did it for them.”

“Gross.” But you’re still laughing, the movie forgotten in the background and your dinner sitting in your lap. “I can readily say mayonnaise does not get me going.”

He chuckles as he spoons up another bite of the meal. He almost tells you that he will note that, but you might not want him to do that. “Oh I love this part.” He snorts as he catches sight of the movie again.

Indy’s exploits suddenly seem less interesting to you, but you watch the movie and continue to eat with an undeniable warmth building in your chest.

The problem is that Javi wants to keep talking to you, but he also doesn’t want you to think that all he wants to talk to you about is sex. It’s frankly surprising to a man who enjoys sex and women as much as he does, but sex with you seems to be about as obtainable as climbing Mt. Everest.

“I always wanted to be Marion Ravenwood when I was a teenager…” It comes out as just a little murmur, but it’s true. Marion had been one of your favorite role models. “Her or Lois Lane.”

“She was always way too good for Indy.” Javi points at the screen with his spoon as he reaches for his wine with the other hand. “But I’m sure Lois speaks to you more because of that journalism connection.”

“She’s the one I went with in the end, I guess.” The comment that Marion is too good for Indy makes you glance over at him again and consider. He has that whole dashing-and-daring thing that Indy does —would he think a Marion was too good for him too?

“You’ve got a little bit of Marion in there too.” Javi tells you as he sits back with his wine and takes another sip. It’s pretty damn good with the meal. “Digging for a story down here is kind of like digging for the fucking Arc.” He huffs, halfway grinning.

“I’ve got Marion from plenty of things.” You shrug your shoulders. “Stubborn, persistent, cocky at the wrong times and wildly insecure at others. Plus the drinking.”

“Insecure?” He frowns. “Why? You’re a ball buster. You shouldn’t have an insecure bone in your body.”

“Seriously?” You almost slip and call him Javi, even though you’ve never called him anything but Javier in the whole time you’ve known him. The girls all call him Javi and it feels so intimate. “It’s a total front.”

"It's a good one." He admits. "When you want to exude confidence, you do." He hums to himself as he picks up his bowl again. "You'd make a hell of an actress if it's a front."

“I grew up with older brothers,” you remind him. “You learn to at least pretend to have a spine, or you end up trampled. In my case, I was then stupid enough to go into journalism. So it’s just more men everywhere, and these ones all want me to fail miserably.” Shrugging again, you put down your empty bowl and reach for your wine glass. “Maybe some of it stuck, I don’t know.”

"I don't fucking understand that." Javi shakes his head. "Yeah, there are certain jobs I don't like seeing a woman in. Ones where they are in danger, but that's my own bullshit and I would never want someone to fail."

“Then you were raised with a hell of a lot more respect than any of my colleagues.” There’s nothing really to do about it but keep your head down and keep fighting, so you just wave one hand as if it doesn’t matter. “Which is a comfort, by the way.”

"You don't watch a woman run a ranch, which is fucking hard work, while her husband is in the hospital and not realize that there isn't a whole hell of a lot women can't do." Javi might be old fashioned in some sense, but he had also been raised by a tough woman.

“Cheers to your mother, then.” You raise your glass to that without hesitation. “She sounds like she was a bad ass.”

"She was." He chuckles and lifts his drink in a toast to her. "Just like I'm sure your father was a hell of a man."

“Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re watching us and laughing together.” Tapping your glass against his, the clink rings out, and you share that drink to your parents with pride.

He shakes his head, knowing that his mama is laughing for certain. “She always warned me I would find someone who wouldn’t put up with me just because I was charming.”

“She wanted somebody who saw you for you.” That’s an admirable thing for a parent. For anyone to want for their loved one. “My Dad always said I’d find someone who wouldn’t put up with me talking shit about myself.” He actually said that your soulmate would be that person, but you won’t put that on Javier.

“You shouldn’t talk shit about yourself.” Javi agrees with that. “You have the power in any situation romantically.”

"Absolutely not." The very idea of it earns him a snort from you, and you practically drain your glass to keep from laughing out loud. "That is so far from the truth."

“Why do you think that’s not true?” He asks, curious to hear this answer.

"Because," you reason, finding that last sip of wine and putting your glass back down on the coffee table. "If I had any kind of upper hand, I wouldn't have spent most of my romantic life, I wouldn't have had to settle for weasels that I basically had to beg for attention."

“You have a pussy.” Javi reminds you. “And a nice set of tits and ass.” He rolls his eyes. “If you put your mind to it, you could have all those weasels begging you for attention.”

"That's...not really how it works for girls like me." At least, not in your experience. Or the experience of most other women your size that you've known throughout your life. It makes you lips turn down in a frown and you shift slightly in your place on the couch.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Javi frowns when he sees you pull in on yourself and turns back to his bowl. “I’m sorry.”

"No." Breathing out, you shake your head again and wipe your hands on your jeans. "No, my shitty self-esteem is not your responsibility. Sorry. Please don't let it ruin tonight."

“It’s not ruining the night.” Javi promises you. “I just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

"You aren't." You assure him quickly. "I just...I guess I wish it was true. That it was just that easy."

“Just don’t let anyone give you shit.” He tells you. “You are a good girl.”

"Careful." Before you can stop yourself, the joking ball buster comes out of you all over again. "I might like being praised a little more than other girls."

He stares at you a moment before he snorts and shakes his head. “That’s the kind of attitude you should have.”

"Shameless vampy flirt?" You ask, with one eyebrow raised.

“Vampy?” He lifts a brow of his own in challenge.

Competitive. Your teachers and your brothers and your parents and everyone else in your childhood had always called you competitive. Not in the athletic sort of way. But in the way where you could never back down from a challenge. Almost instantly you're tossing the collar of your sweatshirt off your shoulder and batting your eyelashes, shaping your lips into a pout. "Is that what does it for you? Vampy?"

His cock twitches violently and if you weren’t who you are, he would be on you in a second. Taking you up on the invitation in that look. But you aren’t looking for him to jump you. “Maybe.” He manages, trying to not let it seem like it’s taking everything he had in him to act normal.

Something changes. Something in his eyes flashes. He tenses. Something in the moment reacts so assuredly that your heart speeds up and you unconsciously lick your lips, tongue darting out to wet them like some sort of silent and unintentional test to see if he's watching you as carefully and with as devoted focus as you're watching him. If you – when did you get to this place and why didn't you notice before? – actually want to kiss him as badly as you think you do in this moment.

Javi practically dumps the bowl onto the coffee table as he stands up. You licking your lips bothering him so much he has to move. “Gotta pee.” He explains. “Keep watching the movie.”

"I—uh—" He seems to panic and it deflates you instantly, to the point where all you can do is sputter and shrink back in your seat, shoving your stupid sweater back up on your stupid shoulder. "Right. Okay."

Javi does have to pee, but it takes a moment to get the half chub he has going on to go down. “She’s fucking teasing you.” He reminds himself. “Don’t fucking touch her. Just don’t.”

He was just fucking tease you. You reprimand yourself over and over, trying to get yourself under control before he comes back. Before you give yourself away. Before you have to admit to anyone but yourself that you actually had been hoping that he would take you up on the offer. Calm the fuck down!

After a few minutes, Javi slowly walks back down the hall. “Want a beer?” He asks, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. “Water?”

"Water is fine." More alcohol is probably a bad idea. You don't want to get tipsy and do something that will make things awkward again. "Thank you."

“Welcome.” He gets two glasses of water, figuring he better lay off the booze himself. He’s changed the mood and he doesn’t know how to go back to that somewhat easy vibe but he knows more alcohol won’t help.

With a little less than half the movie left, he brings back two glasses of water and you thank him for your again as he settles back down on the couch. Chi-Chi had barely stirred while he was gone but now she shifts, getting up from her corner of rug to move over four feet and flop down in front of the sofa as if she means to tell you that neither of you is allowed to get up again.

Javi snorts to himself and tries to watch the movie again, spreading his arm across the back of the couch towards you. Legs splayed a little to be comfortable and he takes a sip of his water, “Want a cigarette?”

"Sure. Thanks." You've gotten into the habit of sharing packs while you're in the apartment together so this, at least, is relatively normal. Or at least as normal as the two of you are bound to get.

Sharing a cigarette is normal. He reaches for the pack and puts one in his mouth and flicks the lighter. Taking a drag off the smoke before handing it to you.

It's such a little motion, and so practical, but after that moment of flirtation where you could have sworn you saw attraction in his eyes, it feels so intimate to smoke from a cigarette that was just held by his lips. Like if you try hard enough you could taste him instead.

Shit. You really have to stop thinking like this...

Javi leans back and sighs softly. “Needed that.” He admits. “Need to fucking quit, but I’m already cutting back on other things.”

“I keep thinking I should quit,” you admit, but take another drag when he passes it back to you. “But I never do.”

“Stress.” Javi snorts. “Addiction. Habit. Who knows?” He looks at it seriously and then takes another drag. “Smoking a cigarette is more satisfying than chewing some fucking gum.”

“I honestly don’t even like gum that much.” It’s stupid, that little insignificant piece of trivia about yourself, but you feel like you’ve made some tiny bit of headway tonight. At the very least, if you’re going to be roommates for a while, sharing things seems easier than expecting him to read your mind.

“It’s okay.” He doesn’t mind it, but the burn of the nicotine in his chest is what he really wants. “But it doesn’t beat this.” He hands the cigarette back to you, noticing the filter is stained with the last bits of wine from one of your lips, resembling lipstick.

You both silently realize it about the same time, and the smile tugging at your lips grows ever so slightly in silent response. Acts of connection, no matter how small, are making you happy tonight.

“Got another carton in the car.” Javi tells you. “I’ll bring them in before I leave in the morning.”

“Thank you. It’s so much easier than high-tailing it across the city to that American market near my old place.” You’re learning his neighborhood— your neighborhood— little by little. It will be good to put it more of an effort now. Since you’re officially staying put.

“Yeah.” Javi frowns slightly. “Be careful if you go back over on that side of town.” He tells you. “Escobar wasn’t happy about his sicarios.”

“Shit…” You wipe one hand down your face and sigh. “Inez found a new place in that same neighborhood. I’ll have to tell her to watch out.”

“Yeah.” He knows you still talk to the bartender from the club you lived under. She was also your neighbor. “Let her know.”

“Thanks, Javi.” It slips this time, just a nickname. Just a small act of intimacy. But it slips without you even realizing it.

He hears the softness of his nickname on your tongue. Making him want to reach out. To pull you closer to him, but he doesn’t. You two are in this awkward, yet comforting place and he doesn’t want to rock the boat. “You’re welcome.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Klaus and Marcel hit a dead end searching for your killer. Until Cami offers a fresh perspective that could change everything. Kol uncovers a spell that might resurrect you, but the cost is steep. And centuries ago, under starlit skies, you surrender to a forbidden night with Elijah, binding your fate to his in ways that transcend time.

♡♡ It's finally time for some smuttt, ~ xoxo {Here is my playlist for the vibes} ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, first time, a bit of drinking, lots of religious talk, stargazing, so much sinning, Kol being Kol, Cami trying to help, a bonfire, dried fruit & magic mushrooms...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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It was almost the end of Cami's shift when Klaus and Marcel walked into Rousseau's, the former looking unusually grim. Cami was used to seeing them bickering and bantering, but the atmosphere between the two was tense and charged. They sat down at the far end of the bar, and Marcel leaned over, grabbing a bottle and two glasses, pouring the drinks with an air of forced casualness. Klaus sat with his shoulders slumped, a frown creasing his brow, his fingers tapping anxiously against the countertop.

"You have to pay for that," Cami pointed out, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her hands busy cleaning glasses.

Neither of them smiled back, their expressions serious, and the smile faded from her face. "Okay, what's going on?" she asked, setting the glass down and walking over, her gaze shifting between them.

Marcel hesitated, exchanging a glance with Klaus, before sighing. "It's about Elijah," he said finally, his voice low.

"How is he?" she asked, concern coloring her tone. He had been seeped in grief since your death, and it was hard to see him like that.

"Not well," Marcel replied, rubbing his temples.

Klaus’s hand wrapped around his drink, his knuckles turning white. "He won’t speak, eat, drink," he said, his voice rough, his anger barely contained. "All he does is sit by the window, staring into space."

"Can you blame him?" Cami asked softly, her expression mirroring the grief in her voice. You had been a light in the family, always finding ways to bring them together, and she missed you, too.

"No," Klaus growled, taking a large gulp of his drink. He set it down so hard that tiny cracks formed on the surface of the bar. "That’s why I have to find who did this."

Cami nodded, looking at Marcel. "Any leads?"

Marcel shook his head, an edge of frustration in his voice. "Nothing. All of my connections… they’re either too afraid to talk, or Elijah already found them first." He hesitated, then added, "Including every last member of the Strix."

Cami’s eyes widened, the full weight of the statement sinking in. "He killed… all of them?"

Marcel nodded. "Anyone he thought might be involved, he left dead. Half of them didn’t even know her name."

Klaus slammed his hand down on the counter, anger sparking again. "This is unacceptable," he hissed. "We have nothing but Elijah’s trail of bodies. It’s like the killer is a ghost… we don’t even have a description, not even a name."

"So… no witnesses, no surveillance," Cami muttered, trying to think.

"No magical trace, no scent," Klaus added, his voice filled with frustration.

Cami tapped her fingers against the bar, her brow furrowing as an idea formed in her mind. She braced herself, knowing Klaus wouldn't like it but deciding to speak up anyway. "What if… what if it wasn’t a member of the supernatural community?"

Klaus turned, his gaze darkening. "Cami… she died with a stake in her chest."

"So? I didn’t say they didn’t know about the supernatural, just that they might not be part of it," she countered, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze.

Klaus sighed, leaning back in his seat. "They broke her bones, Camille. All of them," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "A human couldn’t do that."

"A group of humans could," Cami replied, her gaze flickering between the two vampires. Neither looked convinced.

"Why would humans target her?" Marcel asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

"Why not?" She shot back, her eyes narrowing. "You feed and kill a lot of humans, Marcel. Maybe someone got revenge."

Marcel flinched, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

Klaus’s jaw tensed, his fingers tightening around his glass. "But why her?" he said quietly, his voice low and strained. "Why not go after me, or one of the others?"

"Maybe because she was the weakest link," Cami said gently, hating how it sounded even as she spoke.

Marcel sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It’s… not a terrible theory, Cami. Especially if we’re dealing with someone who had something personal against her."

Klaus's gaze shifted, staring into the distance, his expression troubled. "We’re missing a piece of the puzzle. I just know it," he muttered, his voice distant.

"Well, there is another option," Cami said quietly, an idea flashing into her mind.

Klaus turned, his eyes meeting hers with a slight challenge in them. "And what would that be, love?"

"Go to the police?" she suggested, her voice firm despite the tension in the air.

"What?" Marcel and Klaus blurted out, identical expressions of confusion and shock on their faces. Klaus began to laugh, his entire body shaking with mirth. "You’re hilarious, Camille," he gasped, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"No, no, I’m not joking," she retorted, her expression unflinching. "You could talk to the police, tell them that your sister-in-law was killed. You could offer a reward, get them to really investigate."

Klaus and Marcel exchanged glances, neither looking keen.

"And what can they find that we can’t?" Klaus asked, his expression souring.

"Forensic evidence," Cami said immediately. "Traces that can lead them to the killer."

"And then what? They go to prison?" Klaus chuckled, shaking his head.

"If they’re human, yes," Cami replied firmly, crossing her arms.

"And if it’s not a human? How will the police catch a vampire or a witch?" Klaus challenged, his brow arching in skepticism.

"They won’t," Cami admitted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "But it's worth a shot?”

Klaus shook his head, his tone brooking no argument. "Absolutely not."

"Niklaus…" Marcel began, his voice trailing off when he caught sight of the fury in Klaus’s gaze.

"The only thing the police will do is get in the way," Klaus said, his voice cold and final.

"In the way of what? You aren’t doing anything," Cami shot back, her own temper rising. "Sitting here drinking and wallowing isn’t going to find who killed her."

Klaus rose to his full height, his anger flaring, casting an intense shadow over the dim bar lighting.

"Woah, woah, relax," Marcel interjected, sensing a fight brewing. "We are not getting anywhere arguing."

Klaus sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You can try it your way, Camille. Go tell the cops," he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

"And you can go do whatever it is you do," Cami shot back, grabbing her phone from her pocket and speed-dialing the number.

Klaus watched her walk away, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, before turning to Marcel. "Have someone tail her. If she gets in over her head, intervene."

"What are you going to do?" Marcel asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Finish this bottle, then that one over there… and possibly that one," he said, gesturing toward the collection of bottles behind the bar.

Marcel sighed, lifting his glass and clinking it against Klaus’s. "You can count me in."

13th Century Europe

As soon as the sun began to set, you climbed out of your window, heart pounding as you crossed the convent grounds and took the path leading to the forest. Shadows stretched over the path, but you kept moving, quickening your pace to ease your nerves. You were going to meet Elijah, the thought filling you with both a heady thrill and a quiver of fear.

Ever since the day in the field, when he had kissed you, and you had kissed him back, everything had changed. He had begun attending church, sitting near the back during Mass, his dark eyes meeting yours, his gaze a gentle, knowing promise. After the service, he would linger, waiting until the others had left, stealing quiet moments with you, his hand brushing yours, his soft words dissolving your willpower. The guilt weighed on you, but the pleasure, the anticipation… it was overpowering.

Tonight was different. Tonight, you would meet away from prying eyes and listening ears, beyond the convent walls. The trees loomed before you, their branches dark and skeletal against the fading twilight. You took a shaky breath, then heard soft footsteps from behind. You turned to see Elijah stepping out from the shadows, his gaze warm and intense.

"I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind,” he murmured, his words wrapped in mischief.

“Maybe I should have,” you replied, a blush warming your cheeks.

He chuckled softly, the sound curling through you like smoke. “Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand. Without hesitation, you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you deeper into the forest. The last of the sun’s light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the earth.

The excitement fluttered in your chest, but as you glanced back toward the convent, doubt slipped in, and you resisted the urge to cross yourself. As the night deepened, you reached a small clearing where moonlight streamed through the branches, illuminating the grass in silvery light.

“This is beautiful,” you breathed, looking up at the stars. They seemed brighter than ever, as if they had appeared just for you.

He nodded, pulling a blanket from his bag and laying it on the ground. He sat down, patting the space beside him, his hand beckoning you.

You sank down next to him, the warmth of his body soothing, calming the flutter of anxiety within you.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your temple. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you replied, letting out a long breath, the tension leaving your body.

"Good," he murmured, his fingers trailing along your arm.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his skin against yours. "I can't believe we're doing this," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Doing what?"

"Sneaking out," you said, smiling shyly.

"There's no sin in two people spending time together," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

“But there is a reason we’re hiding,” you replied softly, thoughts of the convent creeping in. “If the villagers knew…if Mother Mathilde knew…”

“Then let them know,” he murmured, though his tone turned more serious. “Life’s blessings should not be squandered in fear. Sometimes, it’s worth the risk.”

You thought of the sermons, the warnings, the fear of losing God’s favor. Yet, as you looked into Elijah’s eyes, something inside you rebelled, a longing to believe that this closeness, this love, was a blessing. 

You distracted your trembling hands by digging inside your bag, pulling out some dried fruit, cheese, some wine you borrowed from the church, and a special treat you'd been saving. Elijah chuckled as he watched you lay the food out, a grin on his face.

"What?" You asked, blushing.

"You brought all of this?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," you said, the flush in your cheeks deepening.

Elijah took a piece of dried apple, chewing it thoughtfully. "What is that?" he teased, pointing at some dried mushroom caps.

"Special mushrooms," you replied, your heart pounding. "They make everything feel more...real,"

"Oh, really?" Elijah asked, a playful smile spreading across his face, "Show me,"

Your hand shook slightly as you took a piece, placing it on his tongue. He closed his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, a hint of a smirk on his face.

You took another piece, placing it in your own mouth, the earthy taste filling your senses. You chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through your body.

"And the church allows this?" he asked.

You shook your head. "They would be furious if they knew,"

"So it's a sin to eat these?" He teased, popping another one in his mouth.

"I think it brings me closer to God," you said, smiling.

"Mmm," he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps."

"Well?" You asked, the suspense too much to bear.

He swallowed, his gaze meeting yours. "Interesting," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.

You smiled, relieved that he seemed to like them. "Try the wine,"

He took the bottle, uncorking it and taking a long swig. "Not bad," he said, handing it back to you.

You took a drink, the sweetness coating your tongue, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins. The cold night air seemed to fade, replaced by a feeling of contentment.

You ate the rest of the food, the conversation flowing easily. You told him stories of the convent, the sisters, and your childhood. The world around you becoming a bit hazy, the trees moving with the wind, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the forest floor.

Elijah was a good listener, his eyes never leaving yours. He was charming and witty, his humor making you laugh, his presence making you feel safe.

As the night wore on, the wine and the mushrooms made you feel bolder, loosening your inhibitions. You were lying on the blanket, looking up at the stars, the night air cool against your skin. You curled up against him, feeling his warmth as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Being with you, it feels right," you confessed, tracing patterns on his chest.

He hummed in agreement, his arm tightening around you.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, the sense of connection. It was a feeling unlike any other, one that filled you with a deep contentment, a peace you had never known before. You had searched for this feeling in God for so long, but it was Elijah who had given it to you.

"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing at a cluster of stars. "It's the great bear, it holds the brightest star in the sky,"

You smiled, watching the constellation, the stars seeming to dance across the sky. "Tell me more," you said, nestling closer.

"It’s a protector, a guardian watching over us.” His gaze lingered on the constellation, his expression distant.

You watched him, captivated by his words, by the passion in his voice.

"I used to look at the stars when I was a boy," he said, his voice soft. "My mother taught me their names, and their stories. I would sit with her for hours, listening as she told me tales of gods and heroes, of quests and battles."

"How very pagan of you," you teased.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I suppose so," he mused.

You glanced up at him, seeing a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "Where is she now?"

"Dead," he said simply, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, a wave of sadness washing over you.

"It was a long time ago," he replied, his tone detached.

You sat in silence for a moment, the air heavy with sadness and regret. You had no family, none that you remembered, that pain had been dulled by the passing years. But his felt raw, still fresh.

He looked at you, a sad smile on his face. "I didn't come here to burden you with my sorrows,"

"It's not a burden," you protested, shifting to meet his gaze.

He smiled, the sadness fading. "Perhaps not," he murmured.

You began to shiver as the night grew colder, the thin fabric of your habit doing little to protect you from the elements. Elijah noticed, pulling off his cloak and draping it over your shoulders. The warmth of his body lingered on the fabric, his scent enveloping you.

"I'll build a fire," he said, rising to his feet.

You watched as he gathered the materials, his movements quick and efficient. You marveled at his skill, the ease with which he created the flame, the flames dancing across the dry leaves.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see?" You asked, worried about the smoke and the light.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No," he replied, settling down beside you.

You felt the warmth of the flames, the cold night air forgotten. You looked up, seeing the stars again, the constellations shimmering above.

"I wonder what the stars are made of," you mused, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

"Hmm, perhaps the same things as we are," he said softly.

"Flesh and blood and bone?"

"Yes, and water and air,"

You nodded, a thoughtful expression on your face. "Do you think God is a star?"

He laughed, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "Perhaps, it's a pleasant thought, isn't it?"

"Mmm, to think of him looking down on us, guiding us," you sighed, a contented smile on your face.

Elijah smiled, a melancholy look in his eyes. "That would be a nice thought indeed."

The two of you lapsed into silence, the fire crackling, the air thick with the scent of wood smoke. You sat curled up together, watching the stars and enjoying the night.

"Will you tell me a story?" You asked, glancing up at him.

He smiled, a look of surprise on his face. "A story?"

"Yes, like the ones you used to hear, about the star gods," you pressed, eager to learn more about him.

He chuckled and got to his feet, walking over to the fire and stoking it, sending sparks dancing into the night.

"There once was a great goddess, with many mortal children, who she loved with all her heart. But one day, one of her mortal children died at the hands of a beast, and the goddess was filled with grief. She set out to avenge her child, and in her grief she created a weapon, a blade that could cut through the very fabric of the universe."

You watched him, enthralled by his voice, by the story he was telling.

"With this blade she wanted to protect her children, but instead, she ended up dooming them. The goddess stole her children from death and sold them to time, who is far less merciful,"

He paused, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

"Now those children walk the earth, forever tormented by the knowledge that they will never die, and by the guilt of having brought so much suffering into the world."

You sat in silence for a while, the fire casting shadows on the trees, the only sound the crackling of the flames. You thought about his story, the weight of immortality, the price of defying death.

"Does it frighten you, the thought of an endless existence?" He asked, his gaze locking with yours.

"Yes," you admitted, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

"It frightens me too," he said, a grim smile on his face.

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

"I've never heard a story like that before," you said finally, your voice barely a whisper.

He gave you a faint smile. "It's an old legend, from my homeland,"

"What happened to the goddess? Is she still out there, somewhere?" You asked, curious.

He sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. "She was banished, forced to watch the earth from an empty place, an eternity of loneliness. Despair her punishment."

"That's awful," you murmured, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you.

"That's the fate of anyone who defies death," he said, his voice low and solemn.

You reached out your hand, beckoning him closer, the distance between you unbearable. He sat back down on the blanket and wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body soothing, the feel of his breath on your cheek comforting. You looked into his eyes, the dark, mysterious depths drawing you in, the flames flickering.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his fingers caressing your cheek. "Death will never touch you,"

"That isn't what I'm afraid of," you confessed, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "It's the idea of a life without you that scares me."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Then we'll just have to make sure that never happens."

You laughed, the sound a mixture of joy and relief. Then you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, the firelight casting shadows on the trees, the wind rustling the leaves.

You lost track of time, lost in the moment, in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace. It felt like a dream, the flickering flames, the gentle breeze, the stars twinkling above. But it was real, and in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be. And what you wanted was pleasure.

"Touch me," you whispered, pressing your body against his.

"What would God say?" he murmured, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's find out," you breathed, kissing him again, the fire burning hotter, the night growing darker.

He pushed you gently onto your back, the blanket soft beneath you, the bright night sky above. His lips trailed down your neck, his fingers slipping beneath your habit, teasing the skin of your thighs. You arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips, desire pooling in your core.

He pulled away, his gaze burning into yours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you gasped, desperate for him, for his touch, for the release only he could give you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice strained, the desire clear in his eyes.

"You won't," you promised, tugging at the laces of his tunic, aching to feel his skin against yours.

"But you are an innocent," he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips. "I do not wish for you to regret this, not with me."

You cupped his cheek,"I will never regret being with you," you whispered, your thumb caressing his lower lip. "Never,"

He gazed at you for a moment, then bent down, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. Then he pulled back, removing his tunic, his body bathed in moonlight. Your breath caught in your throat and you reached out, running your hands over his chest, his skin smooth and warm.

He tugged at the hem of your habit, his gaze locking with yours. "May I?"

"Yes," you whispered, lifting your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool night air.

He tossed the garment aside, his eyes roaming over your body, a hungry expression on his face. "You are so beautiful,"

"So are you," you replied, drinking in the sight of him, the lean muscle of his torso, the planes of his chest, the strength in his arms.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand trailing down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He slipped his fingers inside your undergarments, finding your most sensitive place, his touch setting every nerve alight.

Why must sin feel so good? Did God give us this chance to feel pleasure just so we could resist temptation, or did He create our bodies so we could enjoy it? This felt like the latter, the way your body was reacting, the pleasure building with each stroke of his finger.

You moaned, clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. He pulled away, his breathing ragged, his eyes filled with desire. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," you whispered, pressing against him, craving his touch, his closeness.

"Very well," he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, the look on his face making your heart race.

He shifted, sliding his hand down your body, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your undergarments, pulling them slowly down your legs. You blushed, the realization that you were naked in front of him, the vulnerability causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

He placed his hand on your inner thigh, his fingers parting the damp curls, his thumb circling your swollen nub, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, the feeling unlike anything you'd experienced before.

You gasped, clutching at the blanket, the feelings he was creating within you overwhelming, your body responding in ways you didn't know possible.

He teased you, his touch light and deliberate, his fingers stroking and exploring, learning what gave you pleasure, what made you moan, what made your hips buck. He kissed his way down your body, his tongue flicking against the hard peak of your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, his mouth hot and wet.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, your need for him desperate. He kissed his way lower, his tongue tracing the curve of your belly, the sharp jut of your hip bone, his hands gripping your thighs, parting them, exposing you completely. You gasped, the realization of what he was going to do was shocking, thrilling, shameful, and yet so, so right.

He dipped his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his stubble tickling, the sensation making you gasp. He glanced up, his eyes locking with yours, a smirk on his lips. Then he lowered his head, his tongue finding the hidden place that ached for his touch, his fingers stroking, teasing, building the pleasure within you until it was almost unbearable.

Your hips bucked, your breath coming in gasps, his name tumbling from your lips, the word a plea, a prayer. His tongue licking and stroking, tasting and exploring, the sensation pushing you higher, the pressure building until it was too much, until you could no longer hold back, and you cried out, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body shuddering.

No, this wasn't sinning, this was heaven, and when you fell, it was his name you cried out.

He moved, his lips meeting yours, his body settling over yours, the hard length of his manhood pressing against your thigh, the feeling strange, yet exciting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily, the taste of him sweet and intoxicating. He broke the kiss, cradling your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours.

"Ready?"

"Yes," you whispered, desire coiling within you.

He kissed you again, his tongue tangling with yours, the heat of his body enveloping you. He positioned himself, the tip of his manhood teasing your entrance, the feeling foreign and thrilling. He groaned, the sound muffled against your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushed forward, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder, the fullness, the feeling of him stretching you, the pain slowly ebbing away, replaced by a different kind of ache, a desire to have him deeper, harder. He smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love, the look making your heart swell. He began to move his hips slowly, as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you.

You gasped, the sensation exquisite, every sermon about pleasures of the flesh were erased by the reality of it. The church had gotten it wrong, It wasn't about fleeting pleasures, like indulging in too much honey cake. It was about connection, the joining of two souls, the sharing of love and passion.

He held you like a precious thing, his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. You arched into him, matching his movements as he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and strained, his hands gripping your hips, his movements growing more frantic, his thrusts deeper, harder.

The stars above seemed to burn brighter, the fire flickered, and the forest became alive with the sound of night creatures and the rustle of leaves. The pressure within you built, the sensations becoming overwhelming, the tension almost unbearable.

You cried out, your body trembling as you reached your peak, the waves of pleasure coursing through you. He groaned, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin as he followed you, the world seeming to stand still, the night air thick with the scent of smoke, of earth, and the sweetness of pleasure.

The world came rushing back, and he rolled onto his side, pulling you close, his lips brushing against yours. You lay together, your bodies entwined, the sound of your heartbeat the only thing you could hear.

"I have never felt such happiness," you whispered, a smile on your face.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest, the sensation pleasant. "I'm glad I did not disappoint,"

You giggled, shaking your head. "You could never,"

"You are too kind," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed, contentment washing over you. You gazed up at the stars, the vast expanse of the night sky making you feel small, but protected, sheltered in his arms. It was as if the entire universe had been created just for the two of you, as if nothing else mattered but this moment, the feeling of peace and contentment.

"You know," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. "I think we can stay here for a while,"

"That sounds nice," you replied, nuzzling against his chest, the smell of his skin, the warmth of his body comforting.

He hummed in agreement, his hand stroking your back, the sensation soothing, the night air cool on your bare skin. The fire began to die down, and he rose to tend to it, the flames casting shadows across his body, the sight mesmerizing.

"It is strange," you said, propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him. "I never knew I could feel this way, so happy and peaceful,"

"Life is like that," he said, a thoughtful look on his face. "We often do not know what is waiting for us, but the path we follow leads to places we could never have imagined,"

You stood, grabbing the bottle of wine and walking over to him, your legs were trembling slightly and you tripped, falling into his arms, the red wine spilling over the both of you.

"Oh," you exclaimed, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his bare chest sticky with the sweet wine.

He chuckled, steadying you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I see that the mushrooms are having an effect,"

"Is it that obvious?" you asked, blushing, the blush deepening when he laughed.

"I believe the drink is helping as well,"

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his hair messy, his skin flushed.

"I suppose so,"

You handed him the bottle, his gaze holding yours as he drank, the wine dribbling down his chin. You stared, mesmerized, the sight igniting a fire within you. You took his hand, pulling him closer, tasting the sweet liquid from his lips, the wine mingling with the taste of him. Then you pulled away as a strange thrill sparked within you, and you began to skip around the fire, laughing, your hair flying wildly, the stars seeming to twinkle brighter.

He laughed, his voice echoing through the night air, the sound making your heart race. He caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground, twirling you around, the flames dancing around you, the night sky a canopy above, the fireflies sparkling in the darkness. You felt so wild and free, and you wanted to dance with him forever, to stay lost in the moment, the night a dream, the stars a song.

"You make me so happy,"

He gazed at you, his eyes filled with emotion, his expression tender. "As you make me, my love,"

You paused at his words, the weight of them sinking in, the realization that he truly loved you, that he felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"Elijah, I- I," you stammered, the words failing you.

"It's alright," he murmured, his lips grazing yours, his touch soft and gentle.

"I've never felt this way about anyone, I-" you gasped, the feelings too big for your words.

He smiled, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, of being wrapped in Elijah’s arms. But the reality of what you had just done, what you had been doing for weeks, began to sink in, bringing a wave of dread beneath the warmth.

“I’ve never known a life outside the convent,” you murmured, tracing delicate patterns on his skin, feeling the quiet pull of guilt. The convent’s walls, the endless rules, and the silent prayers suddenly felt a world away, and yet their shadow lingered.

“But now you have,” he whispered, his hand moving softly through your hair.

“What will become of me?” you asked, a tremor of fear slipping into your voice as you looked up at him. You thought of Mother Mathilde, of the church and their harsh lessons on purity and sin. The thought of facing them now, of explaining what you had done, made your heart pound with a quiet panic.

Elijah’s eyes softened, and a slight smile touched his lips. “We’ll go wherever the stars take us,” he promised. “The world is waiting for us.”

You bit your lip, a mixture of fear and excitement blooming inside you. The idea of leaving, of stepping beyond the safety of the convent walls, thrilled you in ways you could barely understand.

“Do you swear it?” you whispered, the question catching in your throat.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze never wavering. “I swear it,” he said, his voice full of conviction.

"I love you," you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips.

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And I love you, more than the stars and the sky,"

You closed your eyes, resting against him, feeling a warmth unlike any other. Yet, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, a quiet fear lingered. The convent, the rules, the life you had always known... They weren’t gone. They waited for you.

You had defied God, broken every rule. And you would face the consequences.

The question was, when.

Freya entered the courtyard, carrying a cup of blood, and found Rebekah already seated beside Elijah, her hand resting gently on his arm as he sat in silence. Rebekah’s gaze was fixed on her brother, her eyes full of worry, unwilling to leave him alone in his grief. Elijah didn’t seem to notice her presence, his eyes distant and hollow, fixed somewhere beyond the walls around them.

Freya approached, giving her sister a small nod before placing the cup beside Elijah. He didn’t move to take it, but his eyes flickered, betraying a glimmer of longing. His skin was ashen, his hair unkempt, and his clothes were crumpled and torn. It was a painful sight for Freya and Rebekah, both of whom knew him as the ever-composed, dignified brother.

“You should feed,” Freya urged softly. “I’ve added some herbs that might help.”

“I am not hungry,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Rebekah squeezed his arm gently, glancing up at Freya with a look that conveyed her own helplessness. “She wouldn’t want this for you, Elijah,” she said quietly, her voice full of tenderness and sorrow.

Elijah’s gaze shifted slightly, the grief in his eyes so profound that Rebekah felt it cut through her as sharply as a blade. “Don’t,” he said, his tone hard, as if even hearing your name spoken aloud was more than he could bear.

Freya and Rebekah exchanged a silent understanding, both realizing that Elijah’s pain was too raw, too deep to be soothed. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of loss hanging thickly in the air.

“What did Klaus and Marcel find?” Elijah asked at last, his voice cracking, though he tried to keep it steady.

“Nothing so far,” Freya answered. “Not a lot of people left to question after-”

“After you dismembered most of the suspect pool,” Kol chimed in from the balcony above, his tone light, a mischievous grin on his face.

Elijah’s gaze sharpened, fixing on Kol with a coldness that might have made anyone else falter. Kol only smirked, strolling down the stairs to join them.

“You’re no help,” Freya hissed, irritated.

Kol grabbed the cup of blood and swirled it lazily, shrugging. “Not in your little murder investigation, no… But I do have something rather interesting to share.”

Elijah’s gaze flickered, the faintest trace of curiosity surfacing. “And what would that be?”

Rebekah looked up at Kol, her wariness evident. “What is this about?” she asked, her tone guarded.

“A spell,” Kol replied, setting the cup down and glancing between them, an almost devilish glint in his eyes. “A very old spell.”

Freya’s eyes narrowed. “Kol…” she warned, sensing where this was leading.

“A way to bring her back,” Kol said, his gaze drifting to Elijah.

Elijah sat up straighter, his expression a mix of disbelief and restrained hope. “Explain,” he demanded, his voice hard.

Kol’s smirk softened, his tone turning serious. “It's a spell that can bind two souls together, to form a connection that transcends death itself. A bond that can be used to pull a soul back into its original body, no matter how long they've been apart, no matter how many miles have stretched between them, or how deeply the grave has claimed them."

Elijah was on his feet, his eyes wild with a mixture of desperate hope and anger. "Why did you not come forward sooner?" he snarled, advancing toward Kol.

"Because I only just found the damn thing," Kol replied, not backing down. "It took months to translate the Latin, longer to decipher the incantation, and then I had to identify the ingredients."

Freya’s eyes narrowed. "Ingredients?" she asked, suspicion clear in her tone.

"Some of them are... difficult to come by," Kol said carefully. "And they require a rather unique skill set."

"Get to the point," Rebekah interjected, her gaze as cold and unyielding as Elijah’s.

Kol’s eyes flickered with a hint of challenge as he explained, "The spell requires a witch descended from a long and powerful bloodline. As well as a blood sacrifice, lots of blood."

"Human?" Freya asked, her expression hard.

Kol’s smile returned, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Oh, witch would suffice, or vampire."

"And this witch from a powerful bloodline? I’m guessing Freya can’t perform the spell," Rebekah said, her gaze sharp.

"You guess correctly, sister dear," Kol replied, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You’ve got a solution, and I’m not part of it?" Freya cut in, her tone incredulous.

"I wouldn’t dream of it, sister; we’ll need you. But this spell calls for more power than any single witch can provide," Kol explained, his gaze shifting between his siblings.

"Who do you have in mind?" Rebekah asked, her tone laced with suspicion. "Davina?"

“Absolutely not. My girl’s not getting involved in this,” Kol said firmly, his gaze hardening.

"Who then?" Rebekah pressed.

Kol’s grin returned. "Miss Bonnie Bennett, remember her? Lovely witch, very powerful, and quite capable of casting the spell."

"The Bennett witch?" Elijah echoed, skepticism in his voice.

"The very same," Kol said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "The problem is, we aren’t exactly on friendly terms. She won’t be eager to help us."

"What other ingredients do you need?" Elijah asked, his eyes boring into Kol.

"That's the tricky part," Kol sighed. "To pull her soul back, we need someone connected to her, someone who cares deeply for her."

"And?" Rebekah urged, sensing there was more.

“We need their heart,” Kol finished, his gaze flicking to Elijah. “The spell requires the heart of the person who loves her most.”

Silence fell as Elijah absorbed Kol’s words, his expression unreadable. His jaw clenched, the weight of the sacrifice sinking in, but he held Kol’s gaze steady. When he spoke, his voice was low and unwavering. "How soon can you get the Bennett witch here?"

"I'll go to Mystic Falls myself and fetch her," Kol replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"I'm coming with you," Rebekah said firmly.

"No," Kol shot back, his tone suddenly sharp.

Rebekah’s eyes flashed as she fixed him with an unwavering glare. "Why not?"

"You need to stay here, to take care of him,” Kol replied, gesturing toward Elijah. “We can't afford him going rogue again."

"I'm fine," Elijah snapped, his gaze hard.

"Sure you are," Kol quipped, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“Kol,” Freya cut in, her voice laced with warning.

"I won't be gone long, a few days at most," Kol said, looking between them.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. "Very well," he conceded, his tone resigned.

"Splendid," Kol said, his smile returning. "I'll leave immediately. I can make the flight tonight."

"I'm still coming with you," Rebekah insisted, her gaze locked on Kol.

Kol rolled his eyes, then relented. "Fine. Let's go,"

Rebekah nodded, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, her gaze softening as she held his eyes a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll get her back, okay? No matter what.”

Elijah’s expression remained impassive, but when his gaze met hers, Rebekah saw a glimmer of hope… a faint belief that maybe, just maybe, you would return to him.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[suguru-getos]

fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 6

|| masterlist ||

-> summary & a/n: this is a comparatively smoller chapter but also the second last chapter, chapter seven would officially end this series. after getting freed from the clutches of cult leader geto, the reader has a hard time. life is not lifing. depression mentions, angst, ANGSTT and comfort. mentions of acute depression & anxiety.

the reader tries to cope through life, taking therapy, but her mental health goes down the drain. suguru rescues her at an impossible moment.

"y/n, come on out!" a friendly, familiar voice echoed from your bedroom's entrance. you don't recognize the concept of time right now. whether it flows in waves, or just has been at a still. frankly, you don't want to waste time on things like that. everything is a reminder, a reminder to eat, a reminder to breathe… a reminder to live. "you can't make progress if you don't want to make progress." the scene shifts, you don’t even remember how you got from your home to your now therapist. your lips part, "I am making progress I think.." you are not sure, what he is even talking about. eyes lingering around the camisole top you're wearing, around the faded monkey in your arm. "look, y/n, it's been four weeks you're here. and you seem to be unaccepting of everything. your reaction to everything is pure numbness. sometimes you have to fight.." your therapist says again, watching your shoulders slump. of course, it is necessary to fight. it is necessary to be strong. you have done all that in front of suguru geto. you have done that to escape him. or rather— make him sick of you enough that he didn’t want you anymore.

you don't have it in you anymore.

"this dinner is your favorite." your mom croons, again a scene shift. your mind has stopped working right it seems. there are tremors every day, you wonder if you have died already and are living your last moments in your head. you nodded, acknowledging everything she says and taking a bite. "it's been one and a half month, y/n. do you not want to step out anymore?" you clutch your fork in your hand, fisting it hard. stepping out… yeah, none of that's happening anytime soon. "you know, I thought you'd be elated and happy when geto released you on his own. we had all the money and he didn't take any." she hums, you're unsure why you get to hear his name. you want to forget him like a faint memory. yet, his siren eyes digging into your soul when he gazes at you, his close-eyed smile and the hatred with which he looked at you. like he would carve the very flesh of you any chance he got. like he would flay you, like he would kill you… when will this stop!

meanwhile, the geto estate has taken it's usual pace. there are pilgrims and devotees coming in, wanting to seek their 'geto sama'. wanting his aid, wanting the monk to help them, wanting to be of help. geto has meetings, and his day ends with quiet dinner with his family. you have quickly become an insignificant past of theirs. why wouldn't you? you were already insignificant to them anyways. manami beat you up broken, geto carved you like a butcher, demons in hell don't think about the souls they torture. except….. for suguru. except for the dramatically disgusting bit of himself that dreams of things he couldn't do for you. as much as he pretends he hates monkeys and therefore, hates you… his inner psyche and inner subconscious mind does not help. he can't escape his own dreams now. especially when they consist of him consoling you over his lap while you cry, apologizing and kissing your forehead, crying with you at your pain so you could feel better, spoon feeding you while you were at the geto estate. in all his dreams, you haven't smiled once. his brain is desperate to create at least… an illusion of you smiling. he wonders how you smile ever so often, are you an eye-smiler? do you get dimples? do your gums show when you grin? do you smile wide enough? it really is frustrating when he's punished by you not smiling and being happy… even in his dreams.

he wakes up, not jolting up like a nightmare but a cruel, calm wake from his rem sleep. eyes lingering with the tiredness he carries. dark circles unable to mask his authentic self which comes out when suguru's heart hurts. his heart fucking hurts… maybe he should go and check on you. he might see you smiling. he might see you happy! yeah, that's it!

so suguru goes, summoning his dragon and goes to your place, standing by your window. ever so careful, slightly gleeful to see how peacefully you must be sleeping now. and there you stood, leaned against the edge of the wall, curled up with your knees close to your chest, staring into nothing like a non-living doll. forgetting to blink, forgetting to breathe. his heart shatters. this is… exactly how you look like in his dreams, too. tears burn his eyes as he gnaws at his lip. your eye-bags have their own story to tell, dark circles and pale lips. you've lost weight, you've lost glow. you look even more breakable than you did before. weakling…

suguru doesn't understand either, when he feels the morning glow radiate your room. he had been staring at you like an awestruck fan of a masterpiece for the entire night. "y/n! good morning!" he hears your friend speak, oh- you do have supportive people around you, who come and meet you. you flinched, looking around lost, you didn't realize the entire night had passed either. your body has had enough, you can feel it when you try to get up from bed. your entire being is unstable and you feel like you can't do this anymore. you can't do the tedious task of living in a world where you can't hope to smile again. you want to rest. you want your heart to stop beating, you want your eyes to stop seeing, you want your ears to stop hearing, you want your skin to stop crawling with disgust when touched. you want to rest. you want to rest. you want to rest. you want to rest. you want to rest. you want to- you-

a thud echoes in the room followed by a sinking feeling of gnarly anxiety in suguru's stomach. you had just passed out. and his senses had stopped working that very moment. pupils dilated with panic, didn't even think about the glass your window had or that breaking it would hurt him, didn't even think about how your family would feel when they hear the noise and watch him, when they watch him holding you like you would break, or holding you like you shouldn't break… anymore.

just holding your limp form against his chest, how tiny. like a little bunny, like a little dove just caged in his arms. not so scared when you have no consciousness left in you. he loves this expression of content you have. he hates himself for making you go through this. he hates himself for feeling so lost and so taut between two separate ideologies. he hates himself for going harder on you every time you made him feel something, he hates himself for resisting. he couldn't, not possibly so.

"she needs a doctor." his voice echoes with adamant authority when he sees your parents.

you do, need a doctor. hopefully someone who could heal your soul, too.

[hatsukeii]

"WE ARE THE BLOOD IN OUR...WAS IT VEINS OR ARTERIES AGAIN?" / T. KUROO

#1. GREAT EXPECTATIONS | M.LIST | PREV. | NEXT. |

warning(s): ochem and bio! these are genuine warnings! i hate ochem and i hate bio more!

wc: ~1.5k

"Why would you need a bio tutor, Kuroo? I don't see a need, when you only do chemistry anyways."

The air of the staff room is stale, and somewhere in the distance, Kuroo catches sight of a few small children, heads hanging low and pants hanging lower as a teacher barks at their "unacceptable behaviour." He envisions himself looking just like them, as he searches his brain for a feasible excuse.

"Just expanding my horizons. Never know if biochem is my calling unless I try it out, right?"

A nasally hum sounds from his class advisor's throat as he nods in approval, spinning in his chair to type a little too furiously at his computer. He pulls up Kuroo's file, his pristine records bragging on behalf of him on the screen. Kuroo's hands sweat in his pockets, fingers picking at hangnails around his cuticles. He does not care about biology, in fact, he'd rather not do it at all. Despite that, with the title of volleyball team captain now bestowed upon him, he is one step closer to his grand goal. His brain floats images of Nekoma's last friendly match, where six hands came together as one as twleve eyes glanced at him expectantly.

"We are the air- no, hold on, glucose? Or hemo...what? No, we are the blood in our...was it veins or arteries again...? Okay, wait, we are- shit, whatever, let's just win."

He cringes at the memory of his own voice, stuttering and correcting every second word as he made it through half a sentence of his pep talk, before the whistle blew and he was forced onto the court, already defeated. Nothing about this is interest, everything about this is desperation.

"Well, you're topping the rest of your subjects, so that's good. Why not focus on chemistry instead? There's still one person ahead of you."

His throat closes at the mention of his second defeat, twenty hours after his utterly failed pep talk, and if not for Kuroo wanting to graduate with a clean record, he would lunge forward to search for the person who robbed him of first place himself. Instead, he pulls a painstaking smile from his face, eyebrows resisting the urge to twitch as he grips his fists by his side like the boys that are still being lectured on the other side of the room.

"See, just making sure I have a backup plan if chemistry doesn't work out."

The advisor clicks his tongue, sighing out a dry chuckle as he drags Kuroo's name into a spreadsheet.

__________________________________________

Kuroo isn't sure why he is already displaying such dedication to this tutoring session, so much that his arms wrap around a shiny biology textbook that will serve no use to him after this. Screaming children run around, snacks and lunches in hand as Kuroo dodges falling sandwich crumbs and flying tomato sauce packets, before slipping through the glass doors to the library. He pushes the panels shut, shielding himself from the mayhem that ensues outside, before sauntering around to search for his assigned room. He slides open the door to room #4, and you look up from your seat.

"Weren't you losing it in chem yesterday?"

Kuroo jerks his head forward, face contorting into an offended, albeit confused scowl.

"Not a very nice way to greet your new student, no?"

You smirk cheekily, snickering under your breath as a droning hum graces the silence of the room. You signal at him to take a seat, and he yanks the chair out from beneath the table, sliding his book on the desk before plopping himself down across you. You flip at your notebook, stuffed full with so many sticky notes that they peek out at the edges of the cover and double the thickness of the pages.

“Alright, tell me, what do you want to work on for the rest of this term?”

Well, here’s the thing. He had a really embarrassing fumble trying to make a speech about the human body in relation to a volleyball match, something that he has not a single clue about! He's desperate and will learn anything he needs to workshop this pep talk so he can sound cool in front of his team!

“Anatomy, probably.”

You sniff, wiggling your pen between your fingers, before scratching your head with the tip of it. He glances blankly at the pen that periodically dips and emerges from your mess of hair, before slowly moving to stare at your notebook in horror, the reality of his new situation finally settling in.

“Well, you’re going to have to be more specific than that, Kuroo.”

Kuroo’s mind blanks. He swears he has never seen you before, and he has seen a lot of people around here. Yet somehow, you have greeted him with both his name, and his absolute loss of dignity from the day before. He goes back to the classroom, the one where he received the sickening “2” on paper, and scans the room through his frantic eyes again, slowly this time. Just for a moment, his vision lands on a spinning pen, and a flicker of yellow, the same yellow that threatens to fall out of your notebook.

“Okay…how about blood?”

“So, the circulatory system?”

Kuroo has not heard the name of any bodily systems since mandatory science lessons in primary school. Circulatory system. Surely, that has to be it, right?

“Yeah, the circulatory system. Sure.”

While you scramble for the page in your book that houses a select few of the hundreds of labelled diagrams, Kuroo’s heart is pumping extra blood to his brain as his gears turn to mush, burning out as they grind and spin, searching for a way to divert this study session into workshopping his pep talk.

"So, you into volleyball?"

"No." You continue searching for diagrams between busy fingers, eyes darting from one note to the other, but never up at Kuroo.

Fuck. Segue failed.

"You seem like the type to enjoy it."

"You here to get me into volleyball, or to get it together for biology?"

And that just about does it. Kuroo finally shuts his mouth, lips curling into a frown as he lowers his head to meet the biology textbook that sits lifelessly in front of him. He can almost see the...seagull? Yeah, seagull, on the front cover, with its beady, thoughtless eyes boring into his skull, squawking at him through the hook of its beak. A guttaral screech, sunlight cutting through the membrane of the yellow pocket birds have for a mouth. It's laughing.

"Damn, okay."

You flip the remaining pages around the metal rings of the notebook, setting down a mess of fluorescent yellow, green, and pink in front of him. He stares blankly, a cluster of words and lines decorating his view. He's never seen anyone put this much effort into diagrams, of all things. Maybe he's become soft, too accustomed to the zigzags and random branches of skeletal diagrams.

"Staring at them only won't do you any good, Kuroo. Your book is still closed."

"Yeah, you're a biologist alright."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You irk your brow, and Kuroo wants to swallow his words.

"You draw like one."

Scoffing, you snatch your yellow notepad that sits beside the half-spilled contents of your pencil case. Amidst the scratches and rolls of your pen against the smooth paper of the top sticky note, you scrunch your nose, each line intentional and every stroke precisely placed. You draw like a biologist. Bullshit. You'll draw however you want, whenever you want. The pen flies away from the paper after you smash a finishing dot beside your LDPE diagram, and you rip the note out, sticking it onto the beak of the pelican on Kuroo's textbook. Kuroo's eyes widen at your diagram, matching perfectly with the image that has haunted him relentlessly in the last of his waking days and sleepless nights.

"Still think I draw like a biologist, Kuroo?"

"Y-yeah, you still draw like a biologist." He spits it out, but his voice betrays him, stuttering at the first word. You smirk, flipping his book open in one swift push to a page adorned with words so small they are barely visible, and about twelve diagrams of body parts he can't even pretend to know the names of.

"Let's get to work then, can't have you falling behind, even if it's only one subject, right?"

He does not want this pep talk badly enough.

Who is he kidding? Of course he does.

Yet Kuroo can feel the great expectation of delivering a pep talk on par with the TEDX speeches he watches in the shower crumbling down, disintegrating and fizzing like limestone in acid rain. His fingers play with the sticky note on the cover as your words drone on, his vision following the motion of your pen aimlessly.

He grips the sticky note with his index and thumb.

He smiles and nods at you when you ask if he understands what you are illustrating on the page of the book.

His fingers pull in opposite directions as they rip your diagram in half behind the bent cover.

author's note:

guys i fear i show up and act like the reader with academic competition but in my heart it's exactly what kuroo feels IM SORRY academic validation tastes too good it's like a drug fr

anywho HOPE U LIKED THIS CHAPTER im having so much fun writing this you have NO IDEA LOLOL

tags: @staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @wyrcan @iiwaijime @akaakeis @catsoupki @cupidsblonde @bailey-reeds @hiraethwa @she-lovesmyheartshapedsunglasses

ok love u guys see u soon bye bye

[smilingangel582]

Day: 8 - Magic

A/N: I can't remember which video it was, but I was inspired by Lyney and Kinich little fan video... it was so cute I had to give my boy Kinich some lee moments and who is better than ler!Lyney himself hehe. I'm not committed as most fic writers, but I will try to write as much as I can. Plus my birthday is coming this month hehehe ~ Enjoyyy

Warning: spoilers for both Natlan and Fontaine, tickles, fluff, platonic, my stupid silly grammar mistakes (English is my second language)

Summary: Lumine takes her Natlan friends to Fontaine. Mualani, Kachina, and Lumine are interested in macaroons, but Kinich, after meeting a real magician who is rare in Natlan, is a little curious. Little did he know that his curiosity had a price to pay.

Ler!Lyney / Lee!Kinich

Ft. Mualani/Kachina/ a fontanian character (Surprise) /Lumine (I always use Aether, so I chose Lumine for a change)

..........................................................................................

Fontaine shows are often spectacular. Lumine has finally managed to invite Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich to the nation of water. Everything is the same with so much liveliness as ever.

These Natlan kids barely seen the world, so Lumine persuaded (specifically Kinich) to travel here for a brief time.

"So" Ajaw spat with contempt "This place didn't drown? Well what a lame boring ending"

Lumine rolled her eyes, and Kinich's stare made Ajaw huff as he stepped down his narcissistic side.

Mualani and Kachina gasped in wonder. "Whooaa!!!" It was Kachina. "I-I can't believe I had the honour of seeing such an amazing nation! Thank u!"

Mualani also added "Yup, and macaroons are their specialty right? I always wanted to try some!"

Lumine offered, "We can have some now if you like..."

But before she could finish, they were already bouncing in joy as if looking for a luxurious treasure chest.

"Ah~ my dear Lumine its been a while"

A familiar and unforgettable voice. The magician Lyney was there suddenly and behind Kinich who -for the first time -looked startled and surprised as he jerked front.

"Lyney! Hey... I came here with some new friends" Lumine waved with a grin, Lyney bowed politely now taking his hat off.

"Oh, how lovely... That's just like you Lumine,"

Ajaw grumbled, "Who's the funky welp with tights?"

"Rude..." Kinich murmured, now nudging Ajaw aside before giving an apologetic nod. "I apologize he's just antagonistic as always... dont mind him"

Lyney was not offended but clearly amused at the ancient Saurian relic, "I never met a pet so different like your friend," he stated as he observed Ajaw in wonder.

"Haaaa?" Ajaw snapped "You dare call the almighty dragon lord a pet of this worthless servant?? Unacceptable!"

Lumine groans "Seriously wouldn't he shut up"

Mualani impatiently looked at Lumine and then signalled to Lyney. Lumine sighed, "Sorry, uh guys, this is Lyney. He's a magician of fontaine, and Lyney this is Mualani, Kachina and Kinich from natlan... oh ig Kinich's uh partner Ajaw"

"Insect! Dare you name me later after my servant!"

Lyney widened his eyes clearly enjoying everything despite Ajaw's rudeness "Why its rare to have any visitors from Natlan... quite the shocker... well carry on carry on... I wont stop your way"

Kinich however looked like he wanted to say something as he glanced at Lumine but then folded his arms slightly.

Mualani noticing this chuckled "Oh uh Lumine's friend, Lyney, Kinich here likes to say something to you"

Kinich lifted his head, blank eyes but irritated at how she always figured him out, "Mualani..."

Grabbing Kachina, Lumine grinned in agreement "Well Lyney if your not busy why don't you entertain our shy friend Kinich while we grab some macaroons and come?"

"Oh, I'm very free, I have no problem in entertaining a guest"

Mualani gives him a thumbs up. "K later, dude! Haha, " with that, she sprinted along with Kachina and Lumine.

"W-wait-!" Kinich cuts himself off, clearly at a loss, he looks at Lyney awkwardly, clearing his throat "Ahem, I apologize...uh its just that the concept of magic... I never understood it."

Lyney hums curiously, leaning closer now they were by the corner outside the opera epiceles.

"Why, that's simple enough... here let me show you my favourite trick"

Ajaw snickered "If you can make him disappear I'll reward you generously."

Kinich shrugs nonchalantly. "Funny how we both want the other to disappear"

Lyney enjoying their dynamic so much shakes his head, "Honestly you two should perform for Fontaines comedy shows... you guys are so funny"

Kinich sighs but Lyney suddenly adds showing a coin "I got this coin in my palm... look at this..." he moves it side to side and up and down showinf its real. He stuffs it into his own palm and then shows it to the saurian hunter.

"So...? Which hand has the coin?"

Ajaw grins "ha! I call dibs on the right hand... and Kinich if you fail... you owe me"

Kinich feeling competitive calmly states "Oh yh? Well you will owe me if I win, I say its left hand"

Lyney hums cunninyly now turning his palms up showing the left hand first, which is empty. Ajaw cackles "Muhahaha I won!"

Lyney cuts in "Hold it little guy... its actually..." shows his right hand which is empty as well.

Ajaws jaw drop, for the first time Kinich wanted to let a laugh, it was an amused huff making Lyney want to hear it more.

Lyney then leans to reach for his ear "It's actually... right here"

However, neither of them expected Kinich to jolt violently when Lyney's gloved hand accidentally caressed his ear.

"I uh..."

Lyney blinked but then manages to keep a decent smile "Oh what's this? Is my guest ticklish?"

"Correction, I was surprised I didn't expect you to touch me... I'm not good with strangers..."

Ajaw snickered. "Ya ya... but Mualani knows your super ticklish here." he pokes the small of Kinich's back, making Kinich jump. But then he instantly puts Ajaw in a time out who yelled in protest before being cast off.

Lyney chuckles, now poking his left side "Why so defensive if you said you weren't ticklish?"

Kinich was silent, but Lyney persistently began to poke him, "D-don't... hey..." A giggle almost slipping but Lyney chuckles."You know I was trying to find the coin that was in your ear, but it looks like the coin has gone missing... but where?"

Oh boy, Kinich didn't like where this was going. He wished Mualani and the others might come soon and stop Lyney. Yet at the same time he kind of wish it wasn't interrupted.

"How about here? Is my coin there?"

"Gaha!" Kinich let's a startled laugh when Lyney pinches his left ribs. He backs to the wall, unable to escape from the clever magician.

"Still no" feigning disappointment Lyney giggles. "Well more spots to go? How about your armpits? It's a good sneaky place to hide something"

"H-heheh hey no... not therehehe" Kinich knew badly enough this is Lumine's favourite spot to get him, especially when his guard Is down with her. For some reason, his guard was down with this guy he just met as well.

But he is Lumine friend so... it makes sense.

"A-Alrihihihihght alright haha just hehehe juhuhust stohohop yohohou win!"

"Ah, you finally asked me to stop?" Kinich scrunched his shoulder up when Lyney playfully tickled the crook of his neck, "It was adorable how you didn't even say "stop" not once"

"I-I did! I juhuhust couldn't speak.." Lyney helped Kinich up now, giving a wink."You remind me of a certain friend in Sumeru... he got a long hat and a very serious look. But he's got a soft heart like you but your actually sweeter"

Kinich blushed, another Lumine i to deal with. But he couldn't complain. He sighed "Alright I suppose the price I pay for watching your magic trick was this... I can accept it."

"Oh but my show isn't over sir, where do you think is the coin?" Lyney wags a finger animatedly. Kinich thought for a while but suddenly giggles when Lyney gave a brief tickle to his tummy and showing a coin in his hand at last "There it is"

"W-whaha? How...?"

"It's all illusions my dear, but I guess Natlan is a nation I should visit too to show magic tricks..." he said it partly to himself. Then Kinich looks up, slightly awkwardly but a little earnestly.

"If you do come to perform in Natlan... uh can you come to my home first?"

Lyney stares in awe, and he noticed how the ice is melting, its cute how Kinich suddenly became a softie for magic, so interested like a child.

"Why I would definitely come to your home first... tell me more about Natlan though..." he rests his hands on his elbows as he watches Kinich expectantly.

"I'm sure Lumine knows how to say her experiences better than me,"

"She does yes but... why don't you tell me your story? As friends?"

"Friends... with me?" Kinich rests a hand to his own chest, "That's a huge price your offering, how can I ever repay you generously?"

Lyney laughs, "You're more into business than the Iudex of fontaine... how about reciprocating your friendship with me? That means we're even"

"Is that... fine?" Kinich blinks, surprised how simple that sounds but suddenly obvious.

"Of course..."

Kinich nods slightly happily, now beginning his story in Scion of the canopy. Meanwhile, Lumine and the other girls have managed to be held up by Navia.

"Come now, partner," she casually says, sipping tea after making the best macaroons for Mualani and Kachina, "Your friend will be all fine, I mean Lyney is a natural with new guests even with introverts"

Lumine sighs but smiling, "Yeah I know,"

Navia grins now, waving her sunglasses proudly, "Take it from me... Hat Guy once met Lyney, and they had a splendid time together."

"Wait... Yuki? Are you... s-serious?" Lumine was shocked how the wanderer managed to let Lyney entertain him. She is curious about what happened but she just couldn't care less.

It's a nice relaxing day in Fontaine at last.

[chuluoyi]

tw vent — a personal life problem. i just have to leave it here bc i’ve been crying for two days. it’s long… so feel free to scroll past it :’)

i’m… about to break up with my bf of 2 years

he’s a really kind person. and i don’t exaggerate it. he always makes sure to show me that he loves me through little actions like forehead kisses whenever we meet up, getting me a customized keychain with my name on it, getting me meaningful gifts and flowers on important dates unprompted… and every simple and little gift he gave me i have stored inside a box and there are so many i’m bawling whenever i look at them bc i’m so touched that a man who loves me really exists :’) he’s my prayers coming true. i used to pray for a boy who will accept me as i am and he comes at the perfect time near the end of my college year when i thought everything in this world was jaded

not only that he also spoils me, goes along with anything i say… he is serious regarding our relationship, introduces me to his parents and siblings. i thought i no longer have any worries about the future. and i can say i’m 90% content with my life now— a great job, a nice boyfriend, financially independent… my life is too good sometimes it feels scary

but there’s no such thing as a perfect life and i’ve dreaded it quite some time… because i know that both of us have been avoiding a certain issue just so we don’t burst our happy bubble… and now that issue has come to bite us

we’ve been in a LDR for two years and i’m honestly okay with it, but whenever questions about the future comes up—like “where should we live in the future?” i always clamp up bc for certain i want to live in my hometown, where my job, parents and social life are. but the thing is… he has his own thing in his city, where his parents reside and he’s the first son so he’ll inherit the family business there

i eventually voiced my worries about this to him, and do you know what his first reaction was? i was so sure he’d immediately get worked up and convince me to leave my job

but no. it never happened

he was so shaken. and yet… he never denied me. he said he’d talk to his parents about it… he said he’d be fine with this arrangement even if he has to be the one going back and forth. he said anything that would make me happy… he’d do it

and i believe him. until the end, i believe him. because he really means it even until the end

i’ve predicted it already. no way are his parents going to agree with this. i know bc just put yourself in their position—your bright first son has everything in order, set to inherit the family business, but he’s going to live a hard life of LDR only for some girl… that’s simply unacceptable

now you might wonder why i’m so dead set with living in my hometown. in chinese culture, when a girl marries, she usually lets go of everything and goes with the husband. but i really, really love my job here. i love the work i’ve been doing, community and friends i’ve made here, the salary and whatnot. not everyone gets a chance to work in my company bc it’s considered prestigious. working here gives me a purpose— i feel enabled here and i can be a part of something greater. i’ve won awards and i’m considered for a promotion too in just 2 years in this company, so it’s really hard for me to let go of it when i know i can be more than just a housewife. and so, whenever i imagine that i have to leave this company one day… i’m crushed

and not only that, my parents only have me. i’m an only child, and my father’s health condition isn’t the best either. i can only shudder whenever i think of them being alone if left them here

sometimes i think i’m too selfish for wanting this. for wanting to keep my job. for wanting to be with my parents. for keeping my social life. my bf is the one sacrificing energy and money twice a month to meet me in my city, and even then i still want to ask for more

but… i really can’t lie to myself and say it’s fine when it’s not. and what makes me cry even harder is the fact that when he finally tells me what his parents’ opinions are… he cries too and said all of these:

“i want us to be together. i feel so, so lucky to have met you. there are some days in which i thought that if you weren’t there… then it’d be much harder.”

“i’m always so happy seeing you all happy and energetic, doing things you love. i don’t want to take that from you.”

“if i make you go with me, i’m afraid that one day… you’ll regret leaving. i’m afraid you’ll be unhappy and tell me ‘if i’ve known this earlier… i wouldn’t have left at all.’”

it’s the depth in which he thought of all of these. i cried on the spot in front of him because… what have i done? what should i do? i love him, i really do but in the end, i can’t let go of everything for him either

and the cherry on top? he doesn’t even want to instigate the break up. he said everything is in my hands now. he wants nothing more than keeping our relationship, but he doesn’t have the heart to make me unhappy. even until the end, he says whatever my decision is… he’ll accept it even if it hurts

i’ve been crying since yesterday. it’s so hard to let him go when memories of the past two years pop up one by one. he’ll pick me up, hug me on hard days, tell me that i’ll do just well, adore me and make me feel confident in myself… he’s been a really great emotional support for me and i’m so, so grateful to have met him too

now we’re still in a limbo. i’m too shaken so i obviously am not able to tell him what my answer is. we agreed to think of this further and talk about our decision in 2 weeks, when he’ll come to meet me again

i don’t know what my answer is even until now. i know the best course is probably breaking up bc we can’t agree on this particular point… but it’s not easy, not when we still love each other this much

. . .

for any of you who have taken the time to read this until the end… thank you :’) this blog is the safest corner i have and i really don’t want to bring any sort of negativity here… but this time i’m just too sad with everything and i think i need a space to confide in💔

[drksanctuary]

In response to this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/avaetin/757041211064385536/do-we-mean-this-or-this-i-need-clarification

@avaetin Nico "pins the wizard" like this:

For Context: Nico finds himself in the underbelly of a magical scheme and doesn’t know how to navigate but some monster in the crowd seems to make some deal with him that gets him out of it more or less. He’s not completely sure what’s going on but he and the mysterious monster are escorted to a hallway and told to go through the one door on the side and to “not keep them waiting” and the door slams behind them.

Excerpt:

Nico walks down the hallway with the mysterious human figure, shrouded in black shadowy mist. Away from the prying eyes of the monsters down the corridor and who knows what on the other side of the doors, Nico takes his chance. He grabs at where the figures neck would be and slams it against the wall. It gives out a choke. "I don't know if you're here to actually help me or use me as a shield for whatever is coming next, but either way I have no reason to trust you. So we're gonna do exactly as I say got it??" The figure coughs and gasps. "Well," it says "that's certainly not a way to treat someone who's just ~cough~ saved your ass Di Angelo." The figure chokes out in a voice that has come to be familiar to Nico. The shroud of dark mist falls to reveal a smirking, freckled face. "And if you're gonna pin me to the wall at least buy me dinner first" Alabaster says, his grin widening. "You?" Nico says "And here I thought we were on a last name basis, yes ME. Now are you gonna squeeze tighter" he says with a playful wink "...or let me go?"  He finishes with a deadpan expression. Nico is actually unsure whether to let go or not. Alabaster isn't an enemy but he did trick him before, Nico’s  still not sure he can trust the guy. Also was he...flirting? (Now is to the time to think about that) "Listen I don't have time to unpack all of .../that/" Nico says with a gesture to Al's vague entirety before letting go of his throat. "Do you know where this thing  leads?" He points to the door at the end of the hall. Al gasps again and adjusts his shoulders and neck. "You do get right down to business don't you" "They are probably already wondering why we're not in there yet...you wanna make fucking small talk?" Nico scoffs. "Good point, but I thought I was to 'do exactly as you say'?" Al mocks him, overstraightening his shoulders, and feigning obedience. Not unlike a dog told to "sit".  Which was apt considering he was being a b- "So why are you asking me~" Alabaster adds, interrupting Nico’s thought. It's Nico's turn to deadpan "If you know something I don't...I want to know too so I can be prepared" "You want to know what I know and you don't?...hmm I thought we were low on time.” Nico winds up a punch and Al puts his arms up "Joking! Di Angelo,...goodness, you have no sense of humor" “ I’ll have you know I have a superb sense of humor.” He shakes his head and slugs Al’s shoulder.   “you’re just not that funny” “I’m hilarious” “You’re unhelpful” “oh you Olympian campers…never know how to do anything unless you have bloody prophecy huh. How’s this:  He recites a verse that is a vague warning of what’s to come that, while vulgar does, to its credit, rhyme Nico is irritated….and mildly impressed. “better??” Nico’s lips make a line that if it were anymore defined would achieve a level of straightness that would be unacceptable on his gay face.

[mimisempai]

The life he wants to protect

Summary

As they gaze at the stars in a rather gentle atmosphere, Aziraphale's serious voice echoes, "You know they're not going to let us get away with this, right?"

Aziraphale and Crowley ponder their future.

Will they face it or run away from it?

Notes

For the @gomenseveryday

Only 2 days and we're there!!!

Just a bridge between S1 and S2

On Ao3

Rating G -  812 words

"You know they're not going to let us get away with this, right?"

Crowley looked away from the starry sky to the angel, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.

Aziraphale had once again dragged him along on an escapade to sample one of the human pastimes. This time it was to go out of the city to look at the stars, and since he still had that childlike expression of wonder, even after thousands of years of existence, Crowley had been unable to resist.

So they lay together on a blanket, looking up at the stars, challenging each other on the names of the constellations, Crowley finding it amusing in the end. Something like that.

Which is why he was so surprised to hear Aziraphale's words echo through the night in such a serious tone.

It was obvious that their respective former camps weren't going to let them enjoy their victory for long. Whether in Heaven or Hell, it was one thing to accept an angel or a demon living on Earth for something other than their duties, but when the angel and the demon joined forces on top of that, it was clearly unacceptable.

Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale, snuggling a little closer to him, continued, "You know I'm right. You've probably thought about it long before I have, I'm sure."

Crowley put his arm around Aziraphale and whispered into his hair, "We can still leave, Alpha Centauri and all."

Aziraphale seemed to consider it, then, pulling away from Crowley to get a better look, he asked seriously, "You'd really do that? Could you do that? Give up everything? Without even being sure they wouldn't find us?"

Crowley held Aziraphale's gaze and replied in a determined voice, "For you, angel? So I can go on living with you? Yes, without regret. But what about you? Would you do it?" 

He straightened up a little and grasped the angel's hands before continuing, "Don't answer me what you think I want to hear, Aziraphale. Give me a sincere answer. I won't hold it against you, whatever your answer. You, even more than I, have built a life here. With your friends. Your business. Your neighborhood. So answer me honestly. Would you be willing to give it all up to escape the punishment of our respective camps and run away with me?"

Crowley prepared to wait, expecting the angel to think for a few moments before giving his answer, but Aziraphale shook his head and immediately replied, "I don't want to go."

To be honest, Crowley had been expecting this answer, and though he had told the Angel that he would accept his answer, whatever it was, he couldn't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment, for he had hoped...

"Not because I'm not ready to give it all up. I would run away with you anywhere."

Aziraphale grabbed the demon's chin and added gently, "But because I don't want to give up OUR life. My shop is our home. My friends are your friends. My neighborhood is yours. It's not my life I love here, it's OUR life. This is you coming home from the coffee shop complaining about Nina refusing to serve you your seventh espresso. It's Maggie using our friendship as an excuse to bring you the latest vinyl she thinks you might like. It's you bringing me Eccles because you know it puts me in a good mood. I don't want to lose all this. Our life."

Crowley, stunned by the passion in the angel's voice, asked almost coyly, "So what do we do?"

Aziraphale cupped his face and replied in a soft but incredibly determined voice, "As always, we fight. For our side."

The demon thought that if he wasn't already head over heels in love with the angel, he would have fallen in love right then and there as Aziraphale looked at him with a new fire in his eyes. Fearless. Flamboyant.

Though he knew the answer, Crowley asked him, scrutinizing him with his eyes, "Are you really sure?"

Aziraphale nodded vigorously before replying in the same firm voice, "I have never been more certain of anything in my entire existence."

Crowley replied in the same tone, the angel's faith and conviction so infectious, "Very well. We'll stay and we'll fight."

Aziraphale nodded again and replied more quietly, "Come what may."

Crowley hummed, "Come what may," before pressing his lips to the angel's in a kiss that sealed their promesse.

When they parted to catch their breath, Aziraphale settled back into his snuggling position against Crowley, his head on the demon's shoulder, and they resumed their stargazing.

Suddenly, they gasped in the same breath: a shooting star had just crossed the sky, leaving its fleeting golden dust behind.

They said nothing, just held each other a little tighter.

Who knew, maybe it was a good omen.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[yzeltia]

WOL/Raha Week Day 4 Name Day

Rating: T for Teen Characters: G'raha Tia, Keith Summers, Khloe Aliapoh, G'khenna Summers, Kirian Summers Notes: Keith can't win.

Keith wrinkled his nose then shot up out of bed. Smoke was thick in his bedroom, wafting in from the hall. In a panic, he tugged on his sweat pants then scrambled out into the kitchen, finding G’khenna and Khloe fighting over a burning pan while Kirian dug under the sink

“Khloe said you had to flip it! Why did you not flip it,” Khloe breathed out.

“I’m not a culinarian! The directions said to leave it for five minutes before flipping. It was only four! It was only four,” G’khenna fired back before screaming with her friend as Kirian sprayed them and the stove down with a fire-hydrant. 

“Whoops…,” Kirian said before backing away as his sister and friend started to walk slowly toward them, trying not to laugh. “I-I just wanted to put out the fire!”

“I’m going to put you out,” G’khenna growled back.

“Khloe’s outfit is soaked! Unacceptable!”

“Looks like an improvement to me,” the young boy said, giving in to his laughter.

“OI! ENOUGH,” Keith roared, putting his hands on his hips, clearing his throat after using his dad-voice.

His children stopped, all looking at him before hurrying over and jumping on him with hugs, tackling him to the floor in the process.

“Happy Name Day Daddy!” G’khenna sang, echoed by her younger brother.

“Happy Name Day Mr. Summers,” Khloe said too.

Keith squirmed free. “Is it that time already? Ah, hey. Don’t distract me. Why is the house on fire,” he demanded.

G”khenna sat up then frowned. “We wanted to make you breakfast in bed but I don’t know how to cook.”

“You should have listened to Khloe…to me,” Khloe huffed, crossing her arms. “I know how to make pineapple pancakes. My big sister taught me.”

“I was cutting the pineapple and putting out the fire. I didn’t set it at all,” Kirian said, quick to advocate his innocence. 

Keith balked, “You’re not supposed to be using knives!”

“G’k let me!”

“He was fine. I was watching him…until the pancake burned,” G’khenna hummed before looking back at the mess.

Standing, Keith sighed then looked at his stove, his precious range looking rather singed. “I really love the gesture, but nothing good comes from the three of you in my kitchen. I’ll take care of breakfast. Girls, go clean yourselves up. Kirian, help me get rid of all this foam,” he ordered before getting to work.

By the time he’d finished, the girls had returned, cleaned up and changed. G’khenna tilting her head, looked around. “Where is father? Did he not wake up with you?”

Keith blinked, realizing the other hand not roused from slumber…or perhaps wasn’t even there when he woke. “Raha? You there,” he called out, heading down the hall as their apartment door opened up.

Coming in, G’raha huffed then placed several boxes on the table before looking around at his family. “It seems I was right to think breakfast would need rescuing. With that foresight I went out to procure some Lemon Waffles from Rickon.”

Keith crossed his arms. “You knew they’d destroy my stove,” he asked, furrowing his brow.

G’raha’s ears perked up. Turning, he looked at his husband then let out a nervous laugh. “Well, I didn’t think they could do anything that couldn’t be undone and it looks like you’ve dealt with whatever went wrong,” he said as the kids started to dig into the boxes and help themselves.

“My stove though…You know how much I love cooking on that. I made our first family meal on it,” Keith whined.

“Ah, forgive me. I suppose it is irreplaceable. Just like our beloved daughter and son, both of which crossed the salt either on their own or with you in which then they pursued-”

Keith puffed up his cheeks then moved to hug his husband from behind while putting his hand over his mouth. “So, for my birthday, I would like very much if that is forgotten and never brought up again.”

G’raha wiggled his ears then gave a nod so that he’d be let go. Smiling, he lifted up on his toes to peck his sweet husband before taking a seat. “I think that is far more feasible than my first idea.”

Sitting down with his family, Keith pulled over his box then popped it open, finding his to have a couple extra waffles than the rest, his husband knowing his stomach well. Slicing a little corner of his waffle, he went to take a bite asking,  “Oh? What was your first idea?”

“I was going to have the kitchen remodeled for you with newer appliances since we’re home. But your request is much more reasonable for our gil purse,” G’raha said, letting his tail twitch playfully behind him as Keith sat slack jawed, waffle plopping off his fork and into the box.

[mamuzzy-creates-stuff]

Ficlet about a little bit of nothing, corrie guard Blaze and Vorn having a lighthearted conversation during patrol, and oh, there is unhealthy amount of mention of piss.

Wordcount around 700.

Gems of the Republic

(The Clone Wars)

“Hey, LT! CHECK THIS OUT!!!”

Blaze’s overenthusiastic voice screeched through the inner channel of the radio which made Vorn sneer from annoyance. Staying on guard while on patrol duty as your brother relieved himself in a semi-public place was not something he enjoyed nor approved. But here they were. Gems of the Republic. Using Coruscant’s alleyways as their personal fresher. Something to boast about to the starboys.

“I’m not interested seeing your dick, Di’kut!” Answered Lieutenant in the comm. “And don’t shout.”

Blaze ran back from the alleyway, with one hand still readjusting his codpiece, and fingers entwined over some object in the other.

“Sorry, LT, got excited.”

“What? From peeing?”

“Wha- no, ew, no??? Look!” Blaze excitedly held out his hand, a credit chip shined on the top of his palm. “Ten creds!”

The helmet may hid their faces but Vorn knew that his kih’vod grinned like an idiot. He carefully looked around then he reached out and folded Blaze’s fingers over the credit chip to hide it from prying eyes.

“Put away. We shouldn’t have money on us anyway.”

“I will see the civvie who will call me out for owning money found by trash bin.”

Blaze stashed the chip in one of his pockets then proceeded to close the gap between him and Vorn who was already on their established route. Lazy day on Triple Z, they call it. Sometimes the very presence of the Guard was enough to make citizens think twice before acting out.

Vorn spoke in their inner channel.

“You really should check yourself out with Headshot.”

“Why?”

“Peeing during duty? Unacceptable.”

“Are you just shaming me for having bodily needs?”asked Blaze with mild discomfort by the fact that he has to do with anything with the medbay, but also because Vorn was chewing on his skin again.

“I’m shaming you,” said Vorn with such pompous manner he could pass as a senator “because you are supposed to hold it till the shift’s end. Or at least reaching the guard post and not urinating in the middle of the city. When we were deployed to Geonosis, we had to hold back for at least 30 hours, no pee-breaks.”

The anecdote of Vorn made Blaze’s eye roll and blink so hard, the motion activated his helmet screen and his schedule shifted from the right corner before his eyes. He dismissed it with a quick blink as well.

“You are just shitting me” he scoffed.

“Nu draar!”

Old troopers and their mando’a. But Blaze started to get a hang of it now for a while. “Nah, you totally shitting me. How come your balls didn't explode from all that piss?”

“My balls.”

“Duuuh?”

“Fucking hell.”

“Nah, I don’t buy it” declared Blaze and quickly lost interest in Vorn’s warstories, given that Vorn always had something to make it a lesson for a completely unrelated issue. He was pretty sure, half of them aren’t even true. He wanted to ask about it but Vorn was quicker.

“Speaking of buying, what are you going to do with the creds?”

“Hmmm,” Blaze pondered a bit “I always wanted to try that cafshop near the Market. You know, where they sign your name on the cups.”

“That’s nice.” nodded Vorn.

“Yeah! I could buy you one too!”

“Don’t waste your money on me” Vorn scoffed by the idea, but gentle warmness swirled around his whole upperbody, and he was glad the helmet hid his reddened face. Being taken care of is not something he expected but very much welcomed, though his mouth told otherwise. “It’s yours after all.”

“Alright, then I ask Lily” shrugged Blaze, but his voice was full of tease.

“What-! You little shit, that’s how you treat your Ori’vod!”

“SELF-PROCLAIMED Ori’vod! I just let you tag along with me because no one can stand you and your warstories. Speaking of which… I should ask Fox if he ever peed in the sands of Geonosis.”

“Okay I thought we had been over the piss-topic” Vorn sighed. “How about you just don’t.”

“Too late I already asked him.”

“Me’ven?!” gasped Vorn in disbelief.

“CorrieNet. I asked him.”

The hidden application of the CorrieNet appeared as Vorn brought it before his eyes with the very recent post by Blaze, 24 seconds ago.

@Pyromantic - Blaze CT-9133 14:32

[@CommanderCaf, sir, have you ever peed in the sands of Geonosis?]

Yet again, gems of the Republic.

Mando'a Di’kut - Idiot kih’vod - Little brother/sister Nu draar! - No way/absolutely not/not in the world! Ori’vod - Big brother/sister Me’ven?! - What?! (expression of disbelief)

You can read about more about the CorrieNet here, the CG-exclusive social media platform, but because this is a shared concept between me and @ithillia in our stories and RPs, please don't use it under this name. Please reblog, if you enjoyed it, my corrie blorbos will be over and back!!! And I planned to do a little continuation for it with them actually go to that cafshop, if you are interested, throw me a comment so I can tag you when it's finished! :)

[nickcarr-scoutstories]

The Executives. The married couple no longer have a working landline in their Hollywood home, and they are positive it’s because of the dead leaves I put on their front lawn. “Our phones went down right after you put those leaves in our yard last week,” they yell. “You need to fix this situation immediately. This is completely unacceptable.” To clarify, I did not personally place the dead leaves on their lawn. That was done by the set dressers, at numerous homes throughout the area, in the interest of making the neighborhood feel like autumn for the movie we’re shooting. To further clarify, they were not actual dead leaves. Rather, they were artificial leaves attached to a netting for easy removal. However, I was the one who arranged the agreement allowing us to place several piles of fake dead leaves on their front lawn, and thus they consider me to be solely responsible. I agree with the couple that the timing of the landline failure is suspicious, but say that I just can’t conceive of how our brief presence could have possibly caused it. “Don’t give us that bullshit,” they say. “We work in Hollywood too. Do you know who we are?” I do know who they are. They are both top executives at major production companies in Los Angeles. They both make incomes in the tens of millions of dollars. A quick Google search for their names results in an endless stream of publicity pictures from award shows like the Oscars and glitzy red-carpet premieres. For some reason, whenever I call, both husband and wife get on the phone with me. “Here are the facts,” they say. “You set foot on our property. Our landline stopped working. End of story. “So you need to fix it,” they say. “Because that landline connects our home security system to the central company that monitors for any alarms. Without a landline, our house is now unprotected. "And we’re about to take our kids on vacation next week, the first fucking vacation we’ve had time for in three years. Now we have to worry the whole time about whether someone’s breaking into our house? “Don’t call back until you have a solution.” They hang up. And I realize that I don't have a choice. We were on their property when the phone lines died, and as unlikely as it may be, there's still an outside chance we were responsible. At the very least, it merits an investigation. Shortly after, their assistant calls to provide information about their Verizon account, including account numbers and passwords. I call Verizon and explain the situation. “Wait a minute,” says the technician. “Are you not the homeowner?” “No,” I say. “This is a bit unusual, but I’m a location scout who worked on a movie that filmed at their home and potentially damaged their landline.” There is a confused pause. “Well,” she says, “I’m sorry but we can only talk about this account with the homeowner.” I call back the assistant. I explain what happened and suggest that maybe he should call, since he is actually employed as their representative. I assure him that if there are any charges for the repair, he can just bill them to our production company. “Oh no, no,” the assistant says, his voice suddenly shaking. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get in the middle of this. You don’t understand how they get when they’re unhappy. I can’t take on anymore than I’m already dealing with.” I tell him that I'm sympathetic, but I’m not sure how to proceed if the phone company literally won’t discuss the issue with me. “I know. Why don’t you just call back and say you’re him?” the assistant says, referring to the husband. “We give you full permission. Let me give you his social security number and mother’s maiden name in case they ask. Do you have a pen?” He reads me off both the husband’s social security number and mother’s maiden name. I call Verizon back and again explain the problem. “And what is your name?” the technician asks. I introduce myself by the husband's name. “What is your social security number?” I read it off. The situation has begun to take on a surreal aura. “And what is your mother’s maiden name?” I give the name, wondering what my fraudulent mother looks like. “Well, there’s definitely an outage at your home,” says the technician. “I’m sending a signal and not getting any bounce back. Our next available appointment to come out and repair it is in two weeks. Will that work?” I ask if they have anything sooner. “Unfortunately, no,” says the operator. “Well, it’s just that they…” I quickly correct myself. “It’s just that my wife and I are about to go on our first vacation in three years. It’s something we’ve been looking to for months. And now our home security system will be down the entire time we’re away.” “I’m so sorry to hear that,” says the technician. “But that’s the best we can do.” I ask if I can hire a private company to inspect the line. “No, sir,” says the technician. “It’s illegal for anyone but our technicians to service it.” I ask if I can pay for expedited service. “I’m afraid it’s first come, first serve, everyone equal,” the technician says.   And then I realize something. This is the moment where, if I actually were the executive, I would raise my voice and let them know exactly who I was and how important I am. I would demand to jump the line for an immediate repair. I would threaten them with severe ramifications if they didn’t acquiesce. Instead, I say “I understand,” and schedule the service appointment for two weeks from now. -- “Nick, this answer is unacceptable,” the executives say when I tell them the news, voices low and dripping with fury. “It’s clear you have misunderstood this assignment. Did you stress how important a client you are? How this is going to completely fuck up your upcoming vacation?” I tell them I mentioned it. “You let them walk all over you,” they say. “Don’t call back until you have a clear and concise solution.” Ultimately, I do find a solution. It turns out that for $400, their home security system can be changed to run off the home’s WiFi instead of the landline. Though it has still not been determined that we were at fault, it seems a small price to pay to make the problem go away, and potentially buy some good will if we ever return to the neighborhood. The security system is installed. The executives go on their vacation. -- Two weeks later, I receive a call. “This is Verizon repair,” says the voice. “We have an update on your landline. There was a major grid failure two weeks ago that knocked out basically all the lines in your neighborhood. Our apologies, but it’s going to take a bit longer to repair.” “I see,” I say. “Out of curiosity, I had a film crew on my lawn doing a shoot at the time the line went down. Is there any way that could have played any role in what happened?” “No, absolutely not,” says the technician, clearly confused. “No, this was a major technical failure a few blocks from your address. But not to worry. We’ll have you back online soon enough.” -- A few days later, I receive a call from the executives. They have just returned from their vacation, and are upset to find that their landline still isn’t working. “I finally have some news,” I say. “It turns out we didn’t have anything to do with it.” I relay my conversation with the Verizion technician. I tell them I'll let them handle the repair from here, since it would be improper for me to continue. And I say that even though we weren't fault, we still want them to keep their new WiFi security system as a thank you for allowing us to use their property. There is a long pause. “This is unacceptable,” they say. “The phone line hasn’t been fixed.” “I know,” I say. “And I’m sorry about that. But we’ve now officially confirmed it had nothing to do with the production.” “But it went down while you were here,” they say. “I know,” I say, “but if you call Verizon, they can explain that it wasn’t our fault.” “It’s not our job to call Verizon,” they say. “It is your responsibility to provide a solution. Do you know who we are? Do you understand what it means to complete a task?” I hang up the phone. They call back. I let it to go to voicemail. After a few days, the calls stop. -- Sometime later, I happen to be talking with an old friend from my days in New York City film production. I relate the strange story of my run-in with the married executives, and the surreal depths it reached. “Well, here’s the funny thing,” my friend says. “You know the wife. Back when she was a PA in New York. Don’t you remember?” I tell him he must be wrong. “No, for real,” he says. “You probably just didn’t realize it because she now goes by her married name.” He reminds me of her maiden name. And all of sudden, I realize I do know her. Or rather, I knew her, for a brief moment, over fifteen years ago. It was on one of the first film productions I ever worked on, a movie that few people ever saw. We were both recently out of college. I was a PA assigned to the locations department. She was a PA assigned to assist the producers. When I think back to the few months we were on the production, I remember her constantly being hounded by the producers for the most ridiculous of requests, day in, day out, each presented as though it were the most urgent task in the universe. She seemed perpetually on the verge of collapse, her exhausted eyes rarely more than half open. She seemed to subsist on a nonstop diet of coffee and cigarettes. And yet, she plowed through it with a ferocious determination. Every once in a while, she’d notice me listening in as she was given yet another absurd request, and she’d shoot me an eyeroll to acknowledge she understood full well how ridiculous her bosses were acting. She struck me as someone who wanted to play the game without succumbing to it. -- I happen to see her on the last day of our shoot. “I hope everything worked out with your phone line,” I say. “My assistant is handling it,” she says coldly. “You know, we worked on a shoot together once,” I say. “Back in New York. You were a PA then.” “Did we? ” she asks. “That seems so long ago now.” I name the movie, and remind her of the many crazy tasks the producers constantly dropped on her shoulders. How they were rude and demanding and never gave her a moment to breathe. “Oh yeah. That’s right,” she says. “It’s been a while since I’ve thought back to those days. I guess we forget the times that weren’t so great.” But as I walk away, a thought occurs to me. That maybe the world is divided between the people who forget, and the people who don’t. -- This one didn't make the final issue, but you can read many more stories like this one in the just-released "Show Business" issue of Scout Stories, available for $12 at nickcarr.com!

[fanartandfanfiction]

Since Ominis was the winner of the poll, here’s the first chapter of my new story, “Starting Over.”

It’s about a 28 year old Ominis who has cut off his family and he’s trying to make it on his own. He meets a girl named Guinevere starting her life over as well. They quickly form a friendship, but will it turn into something more? I write romance, so you know it will 😝

Starting Over

—————————————

Ominis loathed Hogsmeade, especially the three broomsticks. Being blind, crowds were incredibly overwhelming, yet here he was, perched on a bar stool for one person and one person only.

Guinevere Devonshire.

-previously-

“Lighten up, it’s my birthday!” Sebastian chided Ominis.

“OUR birthday.” Anne corrected him.

“Wouldn’t you rather celebrate it somewhere that wasn’t sticky with the remnants of spilled butterbeer?” He rubbed his sticky fingers together in disgust.

“I’m sorry if it doesn’t meet with your expectations, your highness.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. He was crammed into a booth with Sebastian, Anne, Garreth, and Imelda.

“Welcome to the three broomsticks, what can I get for you?” A voice said from beside the table.

“Where’s Sirona?” Sebastian asked.

“Working the counter, and if one more person makes a snarky comment about her not serving them, I’m pouring a tray of butterbeers on their head.”

“Of course they’d ask for Sirona, what with your sunshiney disposition.” Ominis glared.

“If you’ve got a problem with my disposition, haul your ass up to the counter and get it yourself.”

Ominis was shocked at the audacity of this woman!

“How dare you speak to me that way!”

“Apologies, your royal highness. Would his majesty like a butterbeer?”

The rest of the table laughed while Ominis fumed. “Your attitude is completely unacceptable!”

The waitress rolled her eyes and walked away.

“Way to go, Ominis.” Sebastian grumbled. “Go apologize so she won’t spit in our drinks.”

“Why should I apologize for her behavior?!”

“Go on, go!” Anne urged him.

Ominis sighed and slid out of the booth, navigating through the busy bar. He reached the front counter and waited.

“Ominis! Good to see you. Need something?” Sirona asked.

“To speak to your new waitress, I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Don’t mind Gwen, she’s a bit rough around the edges. She’s been through a lot.” Sirona waved at the waitress.

“What?” She asked as she approached Ominis.

“I wanted to apologize for my rudeness. I was already in a foul mood and it was unfair of me to take it out on you.”

“Well, that makes two of us then. Sorry. I just moved here, the landlord just told me my apartment won’t be ready for another two weeks, I’ve had four people hit on me and spilled two trays of drinks on myself.” She sighed. “But you didn’t ask for my life’s story. I’ll be back to wait on you guys in a moment.”

“I’m Ominis, by the way. Ominis Gaunt.” He extended his hand.

“Guinevere Devonshire.”

“Guinevere. That’s a lovely name.”

“That’s an old woman’s name, so you can call me Gwen.” She smiled at him.

“A pleasure.”

“WAITRESS!” A drunken voice shouted.

“Ugh. If that guy smacks my ass again, they’ll be hauling me off to Azkaban.”

“He touched you inappropriately?”

“It’s fine.

“It’s not.”

“WAITRESS!”

“I’M COMING!” She huffed and went to the table. Ominis knew he shouldn’t, but he followed her.

“If you’d move your ass as fast as you can move your mouth, I’d have a refill already.”

“What can I get you, sir?” Gwen was gritting her teeth.

“You can start with a smile, love. You’re much prettier when you smile. Then bring me another beer.” Ominis heard the slapping sound as he hit Gwen’s behind. Ominis moved forward to help, but it wasn’t needed.

He heard the man let out a squeal of pain as Gwen punched him in the face. She grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him up. “Don’t you EVER touch me or any other woman like that again, you drunken waste of oxygen! Next time you’ll be carrying your balls home in a to-go bag, understand me?!”

“GWEN! Take a break!” Sirona shouted. Gwen let the man go and headed out the back door.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he followed her. She let out a small scream of frustration, then turned around and saw him. “What?!”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine. Go back with your friends and give me a few minutes, I’ll be a less shitty waitress.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her apron pocket.

“You handled that man better than I would have.”

“Hopefully I won’t lose my job. Sirona is a friend, but if I start punching her customers, I don’t think she’ll look the other way. You smoke?”

“No, thank you.” He leaned against the wall beside her. “So you just moved here?”

“Yep. From London. Newly divorced, the bastard robbed me blind and now I’m starting over.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He was the one cheating on me, yet somehow his slimy lawyer still got him the better end of the deal.”

“That’s terribly unfair.”

“Well, life is terribly unfair.” She blew a puff of smoke. “I’m sorry. I’m just holding onto my sanity by a thread right now.”

“I’ve been there myself.” He gave her a small smile. “It gets better.”

“Luckily Sirona is letting me stay upstairs since my apartment isn’t ready. It just all went wrong so quickly. We’d been married five years, three of which he was apparently cheating on me with my former best friend. I found out, the next day I got papers, whole thing was over in four months.” She sunk to the ground. “I’m sorry. You’re a stranger. Please, go back to your friends.”

Ominis sunk down beside her. “I hate crowds and they were drunk before we got here, they probably don’t notice I’m gone. Besides, sometimes you just need someone to listen. What was his name?”

“Brian.”

“And how did you and Brian the idiot end up together?”

A small laugh escaped her, and it made him smile. “I actually owned a bar, Gunievere’s Beers, and he was one of my first patrons. He actually was the one that helped me get it running, I met him right after I’d bought the place. He helped me with the financial aspects since he was an accountant. Do you see the problem?”

“Well, hindsight and all that.”

“Exactly. So Brian the idiot was super supportive and we got married in a year, and he talked about how this was going to be our bar, our dream. Little did I know he was arranging everything to be in his name. God I was an idiot.” A small sniff escaped her. Ominis wanted to comfort her, but wasn’t sure how, so he just kind of patted her shoulder.

“Sounds like a con artist. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“He got the bar and pretty much everything. We were talking about having kids. I don’t know how this happened.” The tears were flowing freely now. “Now I’m 27 and starting everything over.”

“My situation differs slightly from yours, but I’m also starting over in a way. My family is awful, all blood purists and snobs. I finally got them to take my name off the family tree. I still go by the name Gaunt, but I’m cut off from them. I’m financially independent now and trying to figure out my place.”

“Wow.”

“And I’m 28, so I know firsthand how terrifying it is to start over. I couldn’t have gotten through it without my friends. So if you need a friend, text or call me sometime.” He fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“Just so you know, I’m not some easy score just because I’m vulnerable.”

“I apologize, that wasn’t my intention. I’m merely offering my friendship.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just thought it was a clumsy come-on, because that’s pretty much what I’ve gotten since I got here.”

“That would be a terrible come-on, giving you my business card. Far too formal.” He smiled softly.

She examined the card. “You work at Gladrags?”

“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking. What use is a blind man in a clothing store? My wand pretty much sees for me. And as an added bonus, when someone asks ‘how do I look?’ I can respond honestly and say ‘you look great to me.”

Gwen laughed again. “Thanks for the company. I should probably get back to work. Let me get you a butterbeer as a thank you. And I won’t punch you.”

They went back inside and Ominis returned to the table with his friends.

“Where have you been? We thought you left!” Anne asked.

“I was talking to Gwen, some guy touched her inappropriately and she punched him. She was upset and went outside, so I went with her.”

“Oooooh! Ominis was having a snog in the alley!” Garreth wiggled his eyebrows.

“It was nothing like that, we were just talking.”

“She’s really cute.” Sebastian said.

“Very.” Garreth replied, then saw Imelda’s glare.

“Go on, Gare, talk about how cute she is.” Imelda gave him a wicked smile.

“I’ve no idea what she looks like, of course. I assume she’s attractive, she mentioned being repeatedly hit on.”

“She’s got blue eyes and short blonde hair. It’s kind of messy, makes her look tough. She’s got a killer ass, she’s wearing tight jeans.”

“Must you act like a lech?” Anne rolled her eyes.

“Well, she’s much kinder than she appeared. She just moved here after a messy divorce.”

“That’s sad.” Imelda frowned.

“Very. But I gave her my card and said if she ever needed a friend, she could call me.”

“Sure, FRIEND.” Sebastian winked.

Gwen walked up to the table again. “Sorry about earlier. Anyone need any refills or anything?”

“Guys, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is my best friend Sebastian and his twin sister Anne, and that’s Garreth and Imelda.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Gwen smiled.

“So Gwen, Ominis says you’re new in town?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, I’ve been here a week.”

“Well if you’d ever like a private tour sometime, I’d be happy to oblige.” Sebastian gave her a flirty smile and Ominis smacked him.

“Forgive my friend, he’s an idiot.”

“I actually think we’re ready for our tab.” Anne smiled.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

“She is pretty cute, Omi.” Anne added.

“It doesn’t matter!”

They settled their tab and headed out the door and Ominis went to say goodbye to Gwen. She was unfortunately dealing with another handsy customer.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” An older drunken man was wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Is that a yes or no on the refill?” Gwen replied flatly.

“Bit of an attitude! I like a girl with a backbone.”

Ominis decided he had to step in. He approached the table, straightening his shoulders and adopting the snobby, powerful posture he’d been raised with.

“Excuse me, gentleman, but I don’t appreciate you harassing my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t see the confused look Gwen gave him, but he stepped closer to her.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t know she was spoken for.” The man said, quickly losing his bravado.

“Treat her with the utmost respect, or I assure you that you’ll never set foot in this establishment again.”

“Will do.” The man cowered under Ominis’ piercing stare. Despite being blind, he knew he looked intimidating.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Gwen grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side. “For future reference, I don’t need someone to save me.” She sighed and her expression softened. “But this time I appreciate it. Thank you, Ominis.”

“My pleasure. Goodnight, Guinevere.” He turned to go and she grabbed his arm again.

“Hang on, I’ve got to say goodbye to my boyfriend.” She stepped forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight.”

Ominis was walking on air the rest of the way home.